


Infinite Stars

by gildedthoughts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: A lot of people are out for Jimin, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Comedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Empath!Jimin, Empath!Yoongi, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Human Park Jimin, Infinity Gems, Love Confessions, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Bad at Feelings, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Park Jimin Needs a Hug, Pre-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Pre-Marvel Cinematic Universe, Protective Min Yoongi | Suga, assassin!yoongi, basically pre everything, they both do tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedthoughts/pseuds/gildedthoughts
Summary: There are two things that Yoongi never wants to have as his problems: the Infinity Stones and his emotions, and leaving the Black Order was supposed to make that a double assurance for him—yet somehow, he finds himself in the company of Park Jimin, a human who has made those exact things his problem, on top of getting a bounty set on both their heads.Now, he’s being taken on a joy ride across the galaxy to find someone who can get them out of this mess.





	Infinite Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalsaegPiano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalsaegPiano/gifts).



> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTEST BRO, HYUNA! I KNOW YOUR SECOND PRESENT TOOK A WEHILE BUT HERE IT IS, I PULLED MY HEAD OUT OF MY ASS LONG ENOUGH TO FINISH! ENJOY BABY, I LOVE YOU!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter: [gildedthoughts](https://twitter.com/gildedthoughts?s=09)

Having once been a child of Thanos, Yoongi thought he would have been desensitized to everything the galaxy had to throw at him and yet, here he was.

With a heavy sound of resignation, Yoongi flicked off the Sardeon slime that clung to the fabric of his jacket, staining the dark green of the fabric with a luminescent swirl of blue and silver. The viscous liquid seemed to throb under the artificial lights and the assassin sighed, knowing it would be hell to remove.

This was the last time he would accept a job that required him to kill a semi corporal phantom (the correct term would have been demi universe jumper but the creature was dead and Yoongi wasn’t in the greatest of moods to refer to the deceased with its proper name).

He looked down at the squishy pile of thin, rubbery membrane that had been the Sardeon’s physical exterior and pressed his lips into a tight line, stepping over it and removing his mask from the inside of his jacket. He slipped it on, securing it to the lower half of his face and hooked in the inbuilt earpiece, blinking as the technology in the sleek accessory flickered to life. There was a brief moment of absolute silence as the face verified his identity.

The profile of his employer appeared on the right of his vision as he walked out onto the balcony of the Sardeon’s den, peering over the edge to see nothing but sandy ground and several sand snatchers—nasty thick arms of carnivorous grey foliage that stuck out from the ground, its ends tapered with bulbous mouths that held a million tiny teeth. He felt nothing but waves of aggression from them and decided they were not a battle worth his time.

Over the job’s profile, he marked it as ‘COMPLETED’ and made an immediate call to the orange skinned, snake eyed woman who had hired him for the job. He hummed softly to fill the silence as he swung over the banister and clicked the inside of his heels to activate the anti-gravity magnets built into the soles of his boots.

“Greetings,” an automated voice resonated in his ears, clearly programmed to say whatever that was keyed into it.

Yoongi wanted to laugh at the attempt of privacy but kept his mirth to himself. He had to be professional, after all.

Before he accepted any job, the assassin already knew everything that there was to know about his client, from how they looked like to what their favourite food was to who their best friend worked for. His line of work was extremely dangerous and highly illegal—there was nothing wrong with knowing exactly who was buying his services and putting units into his very deep pockets.

“I’ve completed my end, I’d like to see the rest of the units being transferred.” Yoongi kicked off the banister and found himself suspended thirty-five feet above the air—ah, rocket boots, his best friend. They propelled him forward and he cut through the air at a speed that wasted no time.

“ _It is done.”_

The assassin grinned into his face mask and saw the transaction details appear before him, delicious new numbers added to his account.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mitidu. It’s too bad I never got to be christened with your actual voice—” The words _CALL DISCONNECTED_ flashed across the front of his screen and Yoongi pursed his lips. “Rude.”

He could hardly be bothered as his ship came into view, a beautiful DT-1RM3 (with a few delightful modifications on his part). The sides of the jets were lined with yellow liquid that lit up and served as fluorescent lights when Yoongi introduced oxygen to it with just a flick of a button. Most of the external body was coloured a dark beige, now a little a dusty from the debris that seemed to cake the planet he was on. The door to the ship was located on its side and opened as it sensed the identification chip in the wide, fitted bracelet Yoongi wore on his wrist.

As he got in, he shrugged off his ruined jacket and threw it over the back of the built-in couch that sat by the entrance, stretching out the aches in his muscles and bones as he grabbed a fresh jacket from his closet and approached the flight deck. He disabled his mask and let it fall from over his face and into his hand, setting it down beside him.

A loud sigh left his mouth as he sat back in his chair, the plush leather welcoming him. With a familiarity from countless of times repeating the same actions, Yoongi flicked the switches and adjusted the settings that would get him in the air. The lift off was smooth enough that it would not even wake a baby—not that Yoongi would know how easy or hard it was to wake a baby.

He set the coordinates for home and sat back as the galaxy began to fly past him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sharp beeping of his mask pulled him from his state of semi consciousness, the white bands surrounding the eyes beginning to flash with an urgency that propelled him to kick his legs off the dash and reach over to grab it.

 _New customer already?_ Yoongi mused and yanked on the face mask, waiting for the brief moment it took the system to identify him before the program he designed laid out everything he needed to know about the caller and flashed them across his screen until they were almost a blur. He skimmed the information as the words _INCOMING CALL_ flashed in his peripheral vision.

He absorbed all the information at once, eyes scanning over each word and picture and absorbing them at a speed that could only be managed by an altered brain such as his own—one hundred percent organic and yet, one hundred percent tampered with.

The person who had contacted him was a Stenth male by the name of Torgu Kiemen, an arms dealer who was looking to take out someone who had stolen some valuable blueprints of theirs and had deemed Yoongi the right man for the job. The Stenth's skin was a pale yellow that stretched across bands of muscle that wrapped around his limbs. Each stark vein that popped against his skin glowed brightly, a tell-tale sign of the electricity that ran in the semi-humanoid's body.

Yoongi scanned through Torgu’s most recent transactions, arching an eyebrow at the sight of an order for five tons of jewel shaped balloons and fifteen crates of Galaxy Juice—not a very sinister shopping list for a dangerous arms dealer (perhaps only to himself as _that_ much sugar was in no way healthy for any species) and who was Yoongi to judge?

"Answer call," he murmured and sat back in his seat, continuing to sift through every available file of his new client's that his system could obtain or hack into.

 _"Hello! Is this Yoongi?"_ The assassin was surprised by the lack of a voice modifier on the other's end. There _were_ the rare clients who thought that eliminating as much walls as possible between them would create a more 'trustworthy and efficient work environment' and guessed that Torgu was one of them. Not that it mattered anyways, having all he needed about them to ensure himself that the job was a safe bet for him to take—but he let them have the benefit of the doubt.

Yoongi put on his Customer Service Voice. "Yes, it is, how may I help you today?"

 _"I have a problem with a certain someone that requires immediate attention and I was hoping the infamous Yoongi would be able to see to this."_ Yoongi couldn’t shake away the image of a fifteen-year-old boy speaking through his comms, the voice in his ear sounding nothing like what he expected the large and intimidating 6'3 Stenth to be. _"I need you to deliver him to me as soon as you can manage. I plan on dealing with him myself_.”

"That's a very odd request. My specialty is killing people. I don’t usually retrieve them,” Yoongi mused, cocking his head to a side and hearing his neck crick softly.

" _Ah but none of the other...options have as much of a good review on their services as you do. I think you'll be perfect for the job, plus I'm willing to pay a very handsome price for your time."_

Yoongi liked the sound of that very much. His prices were very handsome indeed and were not for those who had shallow pockets. "Tell me more about this issue that you have."

Yoongi listened intently as Torgu told him everything he needed to know about his next target: Park Jimin, current location unknown and his crime, stealing a piece of the blueprints the weapons dealer had been designing. He was not an individual that was registered on any database, making Yoongi sit up in interest at the sound of a challenge.

With a sad tone akin to someone speaking about their lost pet, Torgu told him the blueprints had contained the revolution of weapons that were powered with stardust and were extremely profitable. Though Jimin’s whereabouts were unknown, Yoongi was hardly worried and keyed in Jimin's name in his ship's computer to ready a search.

_"He has really weird robot eyes—glowing white rings surrounding his pupils. That's how you'll really know its him, yeah? He was last seen on Berhert but he uh, slipped away before my men could get to him. He can be a slimy lil thing—I can give you a picture of his but who knows if he’s still wearing this face.”_

A picture that popped up on his monitor to the side of his control panel: a boy with a hood over his head walking through a crowd, glancing over his shoulder and allowing the camera to catch a view of his face, only slightly concealed. The assassin narrowed his eyes and pressed the pad of his fingers to the cool plastic screen, enlarging the image so he could get a closer look at his target.

He found it hard to believe that someone with such a face was entangled with the intergalactic weapon trade but then again, if anyone could convince Yoongi to buy a blaster with a bat of his eyelashes, it would probably be Park Jimin.

The footage was in black and white, a little grainy from the distance it had been taken from but Yoongi could see that his new target was beautiful—almost a little unnaturally so. Jimin had full lips and soft, delicate eyes that had unnatural rings of white surrounding his pupils—perhaps he was half humanoid as well.

“I’ll get him,” Yoongi murmured, making several other searches that he hoped would pull up more pictures of Park Jimin’s whereabouts. “This is going to be quite the job, Torgu and I _do_ expect fifty percent of my payment upfront as a guarantee—I’m sure you understand.”

_“Of course! How much are you charging?”_

He considered the price briefly: Park Jimin may be a hard individual to find but he was no one that posed a high risk to eliminate and that made Yoongi’s job a million times easier.

“How does five million units sound? The galaxy is a big place to search for one small person, my friend. Two point five million now—"

Before Yoongi could finish his sentence, a soft beep sounded in his earpiece and new transaction details popped into his line of sight, his account now richer _three million units. “A little something extra for your troubles. I’ll pay the remainder two point five when it’s done. I know the things you have to lead you is not much but I’ve been told great things about you by my associates and I look forward to seeing the end results.”_

Yoongi liked Torgu Kiemen very much.

“Thank you for your generosity and I appreciate your faith in my skills. I’ll be in touch with you once I’ve got him.”

Torgu chirped an enthusiastic ‘ _goodbye!’_ and disconnected the call, leaving Yoongi to stew in the details of his new job for a few moments before deciding to get to it as soon as he could. Yoongi shifted his attention to the monitor where several search results had popped up. He added the picture of Jimin to the search engine to eliminate the individuals who were very obviously not his target and narrow down the results.

He was given about five results; his programme having eliminated the thousands of others. The first two were individuals—specifically, androids—that looked eerily similar to Park Jimin but were not. They stood on either side of a man that sat behind an elaborate gold desk with thick, exotic furs wrapped around his neck and a variety of glistening jewels resting on his fingers. The backs of the androids were ramrod straight and eyes glassy as they stared forward. It wasn’t unusual to see android helpers being recreated in the image of actual people, though Yoongi had always thought it to be weird. Perhaps Jimin had left a lasting impression (whatever that had been, Yoongi didn’t even want to begin to think about it) on this man, whoever he was.

The other three images were zoomed in pictures of Jimin in a crowd, colours painting the air and people around him. As he had done with the other picture, Yoongi zoomed in on this and narrowed his eyes on the white rimmed eyes of his target.

He recognised the surroundings in the picture and felt his intrigue spike even more.

Sakaar.

How had Park Jimin ended up on a hole in the universe like Sakaar?

The junkyard planet was a nightmare to get into and off, thus the perfect hiding place for people who didn’t want to get found (or at least in Jimin’s case, found easily). He programmed his scanners to locate the nearest wormhole that ran on the same frequency as Sakaar’s did, hoping the universe would throw him a bone instead of making him wait days before he was lucky enough to encounter one.

Wormholes, he had learnt, were temperamental things that were never the same twice. Sometimes, they had the magnetic power of a horseshoe magnet but _sometimes,_ they were potent enough to devoured everything. Some could form to be the size of a pea and others could form in the size of planets and had the ability to eliminate lightyears of space in the blink of an eye. Yoongi had only ever encountered the latter once before and he prayed he’d never see one anywhere near that size ever again.

Based on the energy levels that his sensors were picking up, the wormhole he was aiming for was perhaps the size of a very large refrigerator and with enough luck, did not possess the strength to tear his spaceship apart. He exhaled in relief when his ship’s tracking system locked onto the coordinates of a wormhole that should get him to Sakaar in the safest and fastest way.

In the distance, he could see it come into view, a pitch black hole in his line of sight surrounded by a ring of what appeared to be green and grey smoke and debris, curling around the wormhole in an in and out motion. Gravity began to steadily grow more and more unstable, feeling almost as though Yoongi was driving over a rocky runway instead.

His eyes began to water and pressure built in his ears when he grew close enough and the quick pull of the wormhole was sudden and without warning: there was a loud pop in Yoongi’s ears and it felt as though his every single atom in his body and around him was being squished together to fit through the refrigerator sized hole. His vision went black like the lens of a camera snapping to take a picture before his sight quickly returned to him. It felt like an assault of light on the back of his eyes, like someone small in his head was yanking on his nerves.

His ship shook violently as it was thrown out of the wormhole, shooting through the sky and barrelling towards the body of water beneath him. Despite the pounding pain in his head, Yoongi blindly grabbed the wheel and pulled the lever to keep him in the air.                                                                     

As he blinked away the pain, the assassin flipped the switch to activate the ship’s cloaking device and made his way towards the looming city centre of Sakaar. He glanced behind him to make sure there wasn’t a gaping hole in the back of his flight vessel.

He found a metal yard in the outskirts of the city with no one around to see his arrival and landed there, grabbing his mask and shoving it into the inner pocket of his jacket as he leapt out of his seat. He grabbed a dark, velveteen box the size of two splayed palms from one of the shelves by the cockpit and removed all of its contents: two dozen circular androids that fit into the palm of his hand and the screen that controlled them. The latter was made of a material that allowed the assassin to roll it up and fit it into a pocket.

The air of Sakaar was cool and smelt faintly of industrial metal and stale chestnuts, pressing a little heavily on his chest. Yoongi knew the smell would only get worse the deeper he got into the city and hoped he would have become desensitized to it by then. He pressed a small icon that appeared on his bracelet and watched as the appearance of his ship became rusty and uncared for, as though it had been abandoned in the storage yard for years. He enabled the security and left for the city centre.

Yoongi kept his head tilted downwards, keeping as much of his face hidden from the growing crowd as possible. As he got closer to the city centre, he ducked into an empty alleyway and opened his palm, eyeing the two dozen pearls. They were chrome coloured and motionless against the skin of his hand, inactive until Yoongi waved his bracelet over them.                                                                                      

They thrummed softly, coming to life with the flickering of a ring of white light around them. Each of them zipped away from his hand, hovering a few inches from his face and moving as he did. Yoongi unrolled the control screen, activating all of them and sending each one to scan various parts of Sakaar as he stepped out from the alleyway.

He watched them disappear before blending into the crowd of passers-by, the screen balanced on one palm as he saw what his androids saw. He had linked them to the monitor on the ship, programming them to scan the crowds of Sakaar for Jimin and sending the information directly into the palm of his hand.

He saw what they saw, a live feed that streamed onto the screen. The deeper he got into the city, the louder the crowd grew and the assassin frowned at so many distractions disrupting his train of thought. Looking up, he spotted the fire escape of a building several feet away and made his way towards it, climbing each rail quickly.

The air was less heavy with the pressure and scent of so many bodies so close together, allowing him to take deeper breaths. Yoongi jumped the small gaps between each building, barely having to look up even as the next happened to be taller than the one before. He merely hauled himself with one arm, only half paying attention to where he placed his feet so he wouldn’t plummet to the ground.

Yoongi made himself comfortable against the shade of several stacked crates as he swiped through the camera views of several androids. He waited patiently, knowing that a result would turn up soon and when the first picture was sent to the screen, the assassin merely smirked and clicked on it.

The android had managed to identify his target in a crowd of blue and green painted Sakaarians, coloured powder flung into the air and clouding his line sight. As it avoided the visual obstructions, another image that was sent from another android popped up across the screen: an even closer and clearer view of Jimin from several feet away. It zoomed in on him, head ducked and shoulders hunched as he moved.

Yoongi rose to his feet and followed the trackers built into the androids as they followed Jimin, pleased to discover that the other was only a kilometre away.

Pictures kept filing in every few seconds, popping up in the corner of his screen and giving him an idea of the other's surroundings. He recalled the other androids as he watched Jimin duck into alleyways and descend down flights of stairs, always keeping his head down as though he was afraid of being seen.

Yoongi found himself in a quainter area of Sakaar, populated by repair shops and boutiques that sold trinkets made out of literal trash (or at least that was what they seemed to be). He understood why someone like Jimin would want to lay low in a place like this and if he had the capacity to do so, he would almost feel bad about delivering him to his death.

Criminals always had a price to pay, after all. Sometimes it just caught up to you sooner than others did.

On the screen, the latter disappeared into a corner two storey building, his androids shut out by the slam of the front door before they could follow him inside. They fluttered around the outside, looking for a way to get in and finding all the windows sealed shut with their curtains drawn. There were no pipes or holes or back doors for them to sneak through and Yoongi swore softly, quickening his footsteps in case this guy had discovered he was being followed and had decided to bolt.

Several minutes later, he stood by the front door and knew it would make too much noise to break down. He eyed the second-floor window to his right and huffed softly, glancing over his shoulder to see if there was anyone looking in his direction (not that he had to worry anyways, the good thing about Sakaarians was that they knew better than to get nosy in someone else’s business, most of them firmly believing in the phrase ‘every man for himself’).

He grabbed onto the thick pipes that ran up the side of the building and hauled himself up, grabbing the ledge of the second-floor window. He pulled himself up and perched on the edge of ledge like a bird. He eyed the shut window and saw that nothing but a simple latch kept it close, grinning as he fished around in one of his pockets for a magnet.

He moved the latch with said magnet in his hand and slowly opened the window, wincing at the slight creak it made as he first moved the hinges. Once he had made an opening big enough, he pushed aside one of the curtains and peered in.

The room was poorly lit with what little sunlight that managed to stream past the curtains behind him. He could hear soft music from somewhere in the building, an unfamiliar song being sung in a high, crystalline tune.

He followed it until he came to a door left ajar at the end of a hallway and peered into the room, eyes landing on a boy with his back facing him as he rummaged through a crate. Yoongi slipped in with as little noise he could make, internally crossing his fingers that he didn’t step on an odd, hollow spot in the floor—damn it, he just _had_ to step on a loose floorboard.

Jimin whirled around, eyes going wide at the side of Yoongi in the room with him and, in a moment of sheer shock, flung the book that he had clutched in his hands at the assassin. Yoongi smacked the book aside and lunged for his target, aiming to knock him out before he could put up much of a fight.

His managed to get his arms around Jimin who screamed indignantly and staggered, moving backwards to slam Yoongi into the wall by the door with a grunt. He gritted his teeth at the pain that shot down his shoulder-blades and back. When he didn’t let go, Jimin slammed his head back, the sound of his skull knocking against Yoongi's cheekbone loud in their ears. He wrenched himself free when Yoongi swore at the pain exploding across the left side of his face, anger beginning to peak like a simmering pot.

"You brat," he growled and darted forward again, only to be shoved away.

The moment Jimin’s hands pressed against him, it felt like the floodgates had been opened and every single emotion Yoongi had tried so hard to block out came rushing back. They slammed into him with the intensity of a building crashing into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs so that the cavity could be filled with raw, unfiltered emotions that muddled his thoughts with violent bursts of colours.

Tears sprang up in his eyes as he wrenched himself as far away from the other as he could, slamming into the wall and fighting to keep himself upright as his knees trembled unsteadily.

Being a child of Thanos meant that you were special—otherwise you would have been slaughtered alongside the rest of your people. Yoongi’s specialty had been the uncanny ability to feel the emotions of the people around him and project whatever desired emotion he wished for them to feel—an empath, as most called him. It had been a valuable gift that Thanos had treasured dearly and had made Yoongi one of his most beloved children—it was also a reason why Yoongi had vowed to cut himself from his gift, even if it meant he could barely feel his emotions at all.

He had done so well distancing himself away from his ability and emotions that now, it all rushed back in a way that made the air around him feel like it was drowning him. In addition to that, he felt a gut-wrenching fear that was not his own.

What the fuck was that?

Jimin looked at him with an expression of pure incredulity, breathing heavy as his unusual eyes never left Yoongi. The assassin stared back, heart hammering in his chest and jaw clenched so tightly he was afraid his teeth would shatter.

"Who the hell are you?" Jimin's voice matched his face: soft but firm. His hands were clenched by his sides as though he could pressure Yoongi into submission by the pure force of his expression alone (and that was about as intimidating as a disgruntled puppy).

Yoongi attempted to swallow the ball in his throat despite the dryness of it and unsteadily got to his feet, bracing himself on one knee as he glared defiantly at the other. "What are you?"

"I asked first!" Jimin sounded like a child and Yoongi wanted to do nothing more than shut him up. His heart still pounded in his chest and he wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible before Jimin could do whatever it was that he had done to him again.

"Whatever." Yoongi lunged for Jimin again, the latter making a surprised sound and tried to block his attack by swinging his arm. The assassin managed to grab his wrist before it came into contact with his face and was hit with another overwhelming wave of emotions that almost made his knees buckle. He managed to land his elbow into the side of Jimin’s head, sending the eyes into the back of his head as he crashed to the ground, effectively knocked out cold.

Yoongi stumbled away from him again, reeling from the second onslaught of emotions and buried his head in his hands. He struggled to smother them beneath a big hypothetical boot, willing the walls he had built around his mind to reappear.

How had he _done_ that? How had he forced him to _feel_?

He stared at Jimin’s unconscious face, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he walked over to him. Yoongi couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With his course set, Yoongi sat back as the galaxy zoomed past him and let a groan slip past his lips, muscles aching and yearning for a bed to lie down on.

Maybe he could take a short nap—

“Where am I?” Yoongi groaned again, this time in frustration. Maybe if he just ignored the other— “Let me go!”

He turned around to glare at the offending source, eyes narrowing when he saw that Jimin was trying to squirm out of the energy detainer he had secured him in. Thick bands of purple energy were looped around his ankles, thighs, torso and wrists, immobilizing his arms to his sides and keeping him incapacitated. He looked almost hilarious, writhing around on the floor like that.

“Can you just sit still and be a good kidnap victim?” he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose when Jimin glared back in defiance. His face contorted with effort as he tried to break his restraints, jaw clenching and Yoongi took a deep, calming breath. “That’s pure energy. Good luck breaking that.”

“Why am I here? Let me go!”

Yoongi got up and strode over to him, cruel satisfaction filling his gut when Jimin flinched away, fear crossing his features. “Listen, things will be much easier if you just sit still and shut up, okay? Saves us both energy that doesn’t need to be spent.”

“I don’t understand—”

“You do the crime, you pay the fine, kid. I’m being paid good for your capture and I’d like to have you in one piece when we’re there.”

Jimin’s face twisted in confusion and Yoongi thought he could feel the inklings of

said confusion tickling the corner of his mind. It was an invasive feeling slipping beneath the cracks in his walls, searching and stretching deeper with each passing moment.

He clenched his jaw and took several steps back, exhaling through his nose when the feeling of it disappeared. Did close proximity affect him as well now?

“What…crime? I haven’t done anything!” Damn, this kid was a really good actor. Yoongi arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, levelling him with the blankest look he could muster when the other’s expression grew frantic. “Please—you have to believe me! I didn’t do anything wrong—”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, kid. I’m getting paid when I deliver you, regardless—”

“I can feel your guilt—you feel bad about handing me over, don’t you—”

“Shut up.” Yoongi clenched his jaw, hands twitching at his side. Jimin stared back at him with those wide eyes of his, the white rings around his pupils seeming to widen as well. Yoongi gritted his teeth and turned his back on him, his blood feeling like it was turning to 2ice in his veins.

“Please—I know you don’t want to do this—”

Yoongi whirled around and stomped towards Jimin again, reaching down to grab him by his collar and hauling him up. The sudden explosion of anger within Yoongi caught him off guard, knocking the air from his lungs and making Jimin flinch, refusing to meet his glare eye to eye. The assassin hadn’t felt such raw anger ignite in his chest in such a long time, weighing down on him like lead in his ribs and begging for him to release it.

With a restraint that surprised himself, Yoongi thrust Jimin away and dropped him onto the seats that lined the sides of his ship. He staggered backwards until he could feel the anger receding like a blossom closing in on himself and shoved whatever remnants that remained from his mind down the dark abyss in his head, spitting on it for good measure. The palm of his hands felt like they were buzzing with an uncomfortable sting where he had grabbed Jimin.

“What the fuck was that? What are you?” he growled, his words lacking the prior conviction of the furious flames burning within him but potent in its disconcertion nonetheless.

Jimin visibly swallowed, shaking his head frantically. “I’m sorry—I can’t tell you, but please, whoever hired you to get me _can’t_ have me.”

“And why not?” Yoongi was ridiculously pleased by the apathy that had returned to his voice.

Jimin’s eyes dropped to his lap, fingers twisting into the fabric of his jacket. “I can’t tell you why.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Listen, I want answers and I expect to get them. My client wanted you back alive but he didn’t specify that he needed you uninjured.”

“You can’t—”

“Who’s going to stop me, kid? We’re in a spaceship thousands of miles away from anyone who’ll help you so I don’t think you’re in any position to say no. So, tell me what the hell is up with you.”

Jimin stared at him as though he had multiple options to weigh and the assassin cocked his head, wanting to speed it along. He took a step in Jimin’s direction and smiled when the other tensed, leaning as far away from Yoongi as he could.

“If I answer your question, will you answer one of mine?”

Yoongi scoffed. “You’re in no place to bargain—”

“Please?”

The assassin huffed, rolling his eyes but decided to humour the other anyways. Maybe then they’ll get somewhere. “Fine. One question. But me first. How did you do all those things back there? With my emotions?”

Jimin’s eyes hardened and he pressed his lips into a tight line, a look of contemplation crossing his face. “I—I just do. I can just…feel what others feel? Being around me makes emotions stronger—or clearer? I don’t know, people have told me different things.”

Yoongi was not satisfied with that answer. He could tell the other was beating around a bush, avoiding it without trying to let him know and something told Yoongi that the bush was exactly the answer that he wanted to hear. Before he could pursue the subject, Jimin asked his own question, the words almost being blurted from his mouth.

“Why are your emotions so hard to feel? It’s like looking through murky water, trying to sense you—probably that’s why I didn’t notice you come into the house.”

Yoongi contemplated his answer, wondering if he had anything to lose by telling him the truth. He decided he didn’t (Yoongi had realised a long time ago he had nothing to lose). “Imagine that there’s an on and off switch for emotions. I just happen to have it flipped off.” Yoongi’s smile was as blank as his tone and Jimin stared at him in a dawning horror.

“You don’t feel anything?”

Yoongi shrugged in reply. He didn’t _not_ feel, he didn’t know if that was possible for any being that had emotions—but blocking out his powers had resulted in a mute to the emotions he felt, every sensation—good or bad—becoming nothing but a background hum in his mind, like soft music that could barely be heard unless he were to concentrate on it. The non-verbal answer to Jimin’s question seemed to have made him speechless.

“What species are you?”

“I’m human.” He looked like he was still struggling to comprehend the absence of Yoongi’s emotions. The latter sensed no lie in his answer and found himself surprised by it.

Jimin’s eyes were in no way a Terran trait and last he checked the Terrans had not come up with the technology to create robotic eyes. He also wasn’t sure Terrans were supposed to look this…attractive. Most of the specimens he had seen in his lifetime were awfully hideous, barely anything to covet over and yet, Jimin appeared with a beauty that a galaxy would lust over.

He remembered the first glimpse he had seen of Jimin and thought of the circumstances that had lead them to where they were now. “Tell me, what were you going to do to Torgu Kiemen’s weapon designs? Did you have a buyer?”

Confusion coloured Jimin and once again, Yoongi was surprised by the other’s acting skills and wondered why he hadn’t seen any of the façade when he had been lying about his ability to make others feel emotions.

“What weapon designs?”

“The ones you stole and landed you in the exact mess you’re in right now.”

Jimin’s tone quickly grew incredulous. “I didn’t steal _anything_ and I don’t know who the heck Torgu Kiemen is. I’ve never even heard that name before.”

“Well, he sure as hell knows you and is pretty hellbent to get you as to hire an

assassin.”

“You’re an _assassin_?” Yoongi could feel the other’s panic peak, making the air prickle unpleasantly against his skin.

“Calm down. I’m not going to kill you. Your panic is beginning to stink up the air.”

Jimin’s eyes widened and Yoongi swore softly, biting on his tongue. “You can feel my emotions?”

He huffed and turned away, ignoring the calls of attention Jimin made as he walked over to the ship’s control panel. A shadow was cast over the screens and when Yoongi looked up, he was met with the sight of a large ship looming before him, several hundred times the size of his own. A quick scan identified the owner of the larger ship as Torgu Kiemen himself and Yoongi whistled lowly. He couldn’t help but feel like he was an ant beneath the threatening sole of a boot.

“Looks like I’ll be getting you off my hands sooner than I expected,” Yoongi murmured over his shoulder and landed in one of the bays in its side.

“No—please, you can’t—I haven’t done anything—” Jimin squirmed away from him as Yoongi walked towards him, the fear so palpable the latter wanted to choke on it. He took a deep breath and wrenched Jimin up to his feet, a monstrous cloud of irritation—that was _definitely_ his own—and desperation slapping him in the face. The emotion left a bitter taste on his tongue and Yoongi felt the urge to hold his breath as he deactivated the restraints around his ankles and thighs so Jimin could walk.

The moment he had the liberty to move his lower body, Jimin began thrashing, fighting against the assassin. Yoongi growled loudly and tightened his grip on the other’s arm until he cried out in pain, movements momentarily ceased.

“Listen here. Don’t make this harder on yourself by fighting me. I’ll just knock you out and I don’t think you want that. So be good and walk.”

Jimin craned his neck to look at him, tears shining in his eyes and Yoongi felt a deep churn in his gut that made him look away. “You can’t let them have me. I swear I haven’t stolen _anything_ —you’ll be killing trillions of people if you hand me over to them.”

“That’s awfully dramatic, don’t you think? _Move_.” He shoved Jimin towards the door where a Kree woman waited patiently several feet away, her face impassive as she watched them. At the sight of her, Jimin tried to plant his feet into the ground and shoved against the assassin behind him. Terrified sounds fell from his lips and Yoongi let out a ringing snarl, cutting off the whimpering stream of begs that fell from the latter’s mouth.

The return of his full emotions, slamming so hard against him that he could feel the anger and irritation in every breath he took was disorienting. He felt like he barely had control of them, having been detached from the full power of his emotions for so long.

In an attempt to stop Jimin’s steadily rising hysteria, he felt a part of his mind—one he had not engaged with in a very long time—reach out and wrapped itself like a blanket around the other. The sensation of such control was a sickeningly familiar feeling—though it lasted only a brief moment before he felt a sharp recoil, like Jimin’s mind was fighting back. It felt almost as though he was on autopilot as he forcefully willed Jimin to be calm, revolt twisting his gut like a knife and yet, he couldn’t relent on the control he had.

“Stop it!” Jimin spat and Yoongi felt the air whoosh out of him. His eyes widened in bewilderment at the obvious lack of effect his powers had on the other.

Yoongi felt nothing but a deep, twisting horror at what he had done—he had promised himself that he would never use his powers like that again. It had been the whole reason he cut himself from his emotions and yet, here he was, trying to do exactly that.

“Yoongi,” the woman said calmly, nodding slightly at him before turning to look at Jimin. She cocked her head to a side and hummed pleasantly. “Torgu will be very pleased. You have done well. Please follow me for the rest of the payment.”

Yoongi thanked her gruffly and followed her, his grip on Jimin tight and trembling as he tried to coax his own mind to feel nothing but calm and ease, silent whispers letting him know that everything would be alright. He wanted to scream.

They entered a room that was empty of furniture save for one metal table that sat in the middle, thick straps hanging from its sides. Two blue skinned men bracketed a larger, towering man who he assumed to be Torgu Kiemen. The Stenth turned around to greet him, mouth breaking out into a wide smile. His skin was an even deeper yellow in person and his veins seemed to throb with the electricity that flowed within them.

“Yoongi! What a pleasure to finally meet you in person and so soon! Your person definitely exceeds everything that I’ve heard about you.” Torgu held his hand out to shake and Yoongi merely stared at it before wordlessly pushing Jimin forward.

Before Jimin could run, the two men on either side of Torgu grabbed him and flinched away immediately, their legs giving out with a cry.

What the hell was Jimin truly capable of?

Torgu swooped forward and grabbed Jimin by his neck before he could run away, dragging him over to the metal table despite the horrendous gasping sounds the Terran made, desperate to breathe. It felt wrong to stand by and watch (it felt even more wrong to have a conscience about it).

“I apologise for such horrible conditions for a meeting.” Torgu strapped Jimin to the table as he spoke over his shoulder as though the Terran wasn’t thrashing and fighting against him.

More doubt and guilt curled themselves in Yoongi’s gut and every fibre in his being told him to leave. “What will you do with him?”

“There’s something I need that’s inside him, nothing you should concern yourself over, really.”

Yoongi felt something akin to phantom claws creeping along his nape. “Your weapon plans are inside him?”

Torgu stepped away and smiled pleasantly. “That’s a way of putting it, yes.” Yoongi could tell he was lying and instantly felt a million times worse. The weapon’s dealer removed a small rectangular device from his pants pocket, swiping his finger across the screen before looking at the assassin once again. “I’ve transferred the rest of the units over to your account, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

There was a clear dismissal in Torgu’s words, his smile becoming more plastic with every passing moment that it stayed stretched across his face. The attendant that had led Yoongi to him was now waiting on him expectantly, prepared to lead him out.

Every bit of Yoongi told him to leave and turn his back on whatever that was happening here, his brain telling him that whatever happened to Jimin was none of his business, that he had been paid for his work and that was all there was to this and yet, he remained firmly planted in his place.

It was the thick scent of dread, desperation and fear, curling around Yoongi’s head that kept him from moving and when his eyes with Jimin’s from across the room, he knew he was about to do something that was extremely stupid.

“He hasn’t stolen anything from you, has he?” Yoongi said blankly, noting the way the two men by Torgu’s side tensed in his peripheral.

The plastic smile faltered, eyes narrowing. “What he has done or not has nothing to do with you. Now, I must get to work and I need you to leave—”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

He’d lost it. There was no other explanation other than the fact that Yoongi had finally lost it.

The silence in the room was that of space, lasting only a second but it felt like a moment suspended in time as Torgu’s face twisted into one of disbelief.

“I _insist_.”

Yoongi grabbed the arm of the attendant before she could withdraw her weapon, twisting the limb till it strained at a painful angle and immobilized her.

“You can have your units back but I’m taking the Terran,” Yoongi told them evenly, eyes sharp and promising any one of them who objected a whole new world of pain.

 _What are you doing,_ his brain screamed and frankly, Yoongi didn’t know himself.

“I can’t allow that. It’s a pity you’ve had a change of heart.” He spotted Torgu’s two henchmen reach for the weapons on their sides and Yoongi sighed, gritting his teeth and quickly snapped the woman’s arm. She crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain and the assassin shoved her aside with his foot before facing the blue skinned men charging for him, their blade and gun raised.

Yoongi darted sideways and grabbed onto the arm of the closest man, twisting his hand to disarm him of the blade. The assassin swiped the falling weapon out of mid-air with his other hand and drove it into the stomach of the offending man, swiping his feet out from under him and leaping over the crumpled body.

The other man was easy to knock out with a mere kick of the foot against the side of his face, body hitting the ground with the sick smack of unmoving flesh.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, assassin.” Torgu cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, eyeing the assassin like a fresh slab of meat to tear into.

Yoongi snorted. “So I’ve heard before.”

The weapon’s dealer was considerably a much harder opponent to fight, moving and striking with a cleaner and stronger technique than the other two men. Yoongi gritted his teeth when the other dodged his punched, bringing his knee up into his side.

With a strength that was extraordinary, Torgu seized his knee and Yoongi found himself flying through the air, barely having the time to throw his arm in front of his face before he crashed into the floor. Pain shot up his shoulders and his head knocked against the ground with a deafening thud, teeth rattling in his gums.

Yoongi grunted and rolled to his feet, teeth bared and chest rising and falling heavily. He swore he could see red.

          

“Now its _personal_ ,” he snarled and darted forward, his feet digging into the ground and creating cracks as his body lunged for the Stenth. Torgu sailed forward the same time he did and their bodies collided against one another mid-air, arms and fists swinging.

Yoongi hissed when Torgu landed a blow to his cheek, his knuckles digging into his skin and snapping his head to a side. In a moment of anger, Yoongi grabbed the hand that had a hold on his clothes and glared daggers into the latter’s eyes, thinking only one thing: _fear_.

The response was instantaneous as the weapon’s dealer wrenched away from him with a hitched breath, scrambling away from the assassin. Yoongi swallowed the revulsion he felt at using his powers and was reminded that rage and his abilities were a terrible, terrible combination. Torgu’s fighting was significantly poorer than before, the remnants of fear disrupting his focus and it was easy for Yoongi to slam his elbow into the other's neck and hook his legs his middle.

The larger man crashed to the ground, knocked out by a harsh blow to the nose. The crack of bone beneath his knuckles felt even more jarring than the normal crack of bones beneath his fist. Yoongi got off him and hurried over to Jimin, snapping his restraints.

“Get up. We’re leaving.” Yoongi turned around and started walking away not caring to see if Jimin would follow him. He made it into the hallway before the Terran hurried to his side, keeping a safe distance from Yoongi as he regarded him with wide eyes.

“Why did you help me?”

Yoongi glanced at him, jaw clenching as he asked himself the very same question and came up with a blank answer. “I don’t know.”

“What are you going to do with me now?”

They walked back onto the hangar and Jimin shifted a little closer, keeping his head down in the same way Yoongi had seen him do in the pictures. He wondered if the Terran was used to running and staying as unnoticed as he could by people.

“First of all, we need to get out of here.”

There was a cry of “Stop them!” from behind and Yoongi swore, glancing over his shoulder to see the attendant whose arm he had broken chasing after them, the broken limb hanging at an unnatural angle. Jimin gave him a panicked look and they took off in a sprint towards his ship, door flying open once he got close enough.

“Sit down and don’t touch anything,” Yoongi said and slid into his chair, flipping switches and clenching his jaw at the unmistakable sound of his ship’s exterior taking fire.

He switched on the full throttle and shot out of the hangar, jolting from the sudden jerk in speed and glancing sideways to see parts of the hangar on fire from the ignition of his engine. Several ships were heading towards him and the assassin sighed, pressing a button on the side of his seat to strap himself in

“Hold on!” he called and pulled up, breath held as he felt his stomach swoop with the hundred and eighty degrees turn so that he was now positioned behind the pursuing ships. He aimed at the first one he saw and slammed his thumb on the buttons of his blasters, grinning as the first craft exploded into nothing but shrapnel and fire.

Jimin screamed, terror flooding the entire craft like smoke from a raging fire as Yoongi yanked the control wheel to a side, dodging a beam of laser shot in his direction. He gritted his teeth and blasted that ship too.

As he dodged the blasts that came his way, Yoongi struggled with keeping the barriers around his emotions. He fought the best when he felt nothing, unbothered by such proximity to death or pain but Jimin’s little meltdown in the back was _seriously_ beginning to bug him.

Ahead, a meteoroid field came intp and Yoongi ran some numbers in his head before ultimately deciding to take his chances and accelerated forwards. The screen to his right showing him that several ships had pursued him and the assassin wanted to scoff at their stupidity. Those that were too intent on shooting him down and paid not nearly as enough attention to their surroundings were too slow to avoid the large space rocks floating before them and crashed in a ball of fire.

With a precision and skill from years of training and getting involved in chases such as this—though Yoongi was usually on the chaser end of the spectrum—he managed to weave in between clusters of rocks, jerking his wheel and spinning it in a way that he knew he would have to check the springs and parts for any damage.

Every time he flew too near to a rock, the fear in the back of his ship would spike, usually accompanied by a cry that told him to be careful of a big rock he had seen coming his way ages ago. Did the Terran think he was an amateur?

“Can you stop that?” Yoongi snapped, tilting his head sideways so Jimin knew he was yelling at him. As though he wanted to piss Yoongi off, the Terran screamed as he suddenly pulled up, the base of his ship lightly grazing a meteor in his way. He saw the flash of fire in his peripheral as a few pursuing ship collided into the rock behind him.

“I’m _sorry_ I fear death!” Jimin screeched, now mainly out of anger rather than fear. Yoongi couldn’t tell if anger was any better.

“Well, could you _not?_ _It’s kind of annoying!”_

_“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. I-have-an-off-switch-for-my-emotions! Do you have an off switch for being an asshole too?”_

_“Your backseat driving isn’t helping!”_ Yoongi screeched, shooting two blasts at the ship that had zoomed up from underneath him.

_“I’m not trying to help, I’m trying to make sure you don’t kill us!”_

Yoongi had half a mind to leave his seat just to throw Jimin out the side of his ship, being blown up be damned. With no further retort, Yoongi flew underneath a large meteor and weaved in between several smaller meteorites, all moving at considerably faster speed than their larger counterparts. He could hear the small rocks bounce and scrap against his ship and exhaled loudly as he thought of the paintjob hem would have to get.

The assassin lost the last of his pursuers to the mess of meteorite traffic and focused on surviving the rest of it without getting smashed to bits.

Once he cleared the field, Yoongi turned on the camouflage of his ship, exhaled a weighted breath and allowed the back of his head to fall against the cushion of his headrest. There was nothing but blissful silence for several moments before Yoongi’s brain nagged at him to deal with a certain issue he had in the back seat.

Too exhausted to get up, Yoongi pressed the little lever by his side and felt the back of his chair recline until he was lying completely on his back. He spotted Jimin pressed tight to the corner of the seats, knuckles white from gripping the bar overhead. His face was pale as well, mouth parted slightly to allow shallow breaths to fall.

“That wasn’t too bad now, was it?”

“I don’t think my organs are in the right places,” Jimin said weakly and tried to get up, only to lose his balance and fall onto his knees and hands with a weak whimper. “I don’t feel so good.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow and propped himself up on one elbow. “If you throw up, I am obliged by law to kick you out of this spaceship.”

The Terran shot him a poor glare that quickly dissolved into a groan. Yoongi could breathe now that the fear in the air had dissipated and allowed for his mind to properly think about how and what he was going to do with Jimin.

“Get up,” Yoongi sighed as he rolled off his own chair and walked towards his nauseated passenger. He stopped several feet away and folded his arms when Jimin flinched at their proximity. “Oh c’mon, I’m not going to save your ass from those lunatics and then kill you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you—you’re insane.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “I just saved your life.”

“After hunting me down and kidnapping me!” Jimin exclaimed and fell onto his ass with a soft groan. He leaned against the seats behind him before levelling Yoongi with an angry look. “And you just flew through a meteorite field! What maniac willingly does that?”

 _Huh, fair point_. “Well, this maniac just got a bunch of insane aliens off our tails so you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you—”

“You’re welcome.” The Terran shot him an incredulous look as Yoongi stepped closer to him and knelt down. “Now, you’re going to tell me just what the hell is up with you or I’m dropping you off on the nearest rock to fend for yourself. You weren’t lying when you told me that you hadn’t stolen any of Torgu’s weapon plans so what did he want from you?”

There was that look again—the one Jimin had whenever he was lying. “He was obviously insane.”

“Insane enough to cut you open when you’ve done nothing to him? There was also your whole meltdown when we got there. What did you mean, I’d be ‘killing trillions of people if I handed you over to him’?” Jimin clamped his teeth over his lower lip and turned his head away. The assassin clicked his tongue. “I could have just let him have you and walked away back there. I think I deserve to know what the hell is up with you?”

Jimin looked at him, eyes torn and Yoongi could almost imagine the internal battle that was waging inside his head. Finally, he sighed, one side clearly having won over.

“What do you know about Infinity Stones?” Jimin said slowly and the assassin couldn’t help the shudder that ran along his spine. The other caught that and Yoongi dreaded the grim expression on his face.

“I know enough that they’re mass weapons of destructions, all controlling an element of their own,” Yoongi said bleakly. “I know that if you ever come across one you stay far away, put as many systems between you and it, because they usually mean trouble.”

Jimin laughed, the sound mirthless. “Torgu did want something in me and he obviously didn’t want to stay away—I have a piece of the Mind Stone lodged in my chest and I think that’s what he wanted.”

Yoongi stared at him, a silence settling like a stale scent in between them before the assassin burst out laughing, bracing himself against his knee and feeling an ache gnaw at his stomach.

"Why're you laughing?" Jimin asked incredulously, looking like the other like he had gone mad. Perhaps he had, Yoongi thought, but if that were true, Jimin would have had to be twice as insane as he was.

"You're hilarious, you know? I didn’t know Terrans had such an amazing sense of humour."

"I'm not joking," Jimin deadpanned and his tone of voice forced Yoongi to sober, an unsure smile stretching across his face as he waited for the other to burst out laughing and tell him he was joking. The Terran did nothing of the kind and Yoongi sobered up, his stomach dropping like an anchor to the soles of his feet.

"You are joking. You _have_ to be joking." he said, eyes imploring.

"I'm not," Jimin said slowly and Yoongi felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He stared at Jimin and found not one of his little habits that told him he was lying. Dread spread through Yoongi like dark ink through clear water and he scrambled away from the other, falling onto his ass as a ball lodged in his throat.

"You can’t have a part of the Mind Stone in you—you're Terran. It would tear your mind to bits—"

"But I do. That's why I can make you feel things and feel others around me, that’s why you can’t control my emotions—" Yoongi got to his feet, unsure how much more he could hear before he lost his mind for real and turned away from Jimin when he felt like the white circles of his eyes were too intense to bare. “You can, can’t you? Control and feel emotions as I do?”

“I don’t,” Yoongi hissed and fussed over his control panel, desperate for something that would keep him from having to process what Jimin was saying. Despite his attempts, images of Infinity Stones and the powers they hold crept into Yoongi’s mind, their destruction painting visions of red and terror. He had only seen the brutality of one before from afar, when he had been sent on a mission and watched the deaths that a Stone had wrecked upon a group of individuals who had underestimated its power. He had watched it tear hundreds of people to shreds until nothing remained, the earth beneath their feet cracking and swallowing anything within a five-hundred-mile radius.

He could imagine their fears like the death of a sun—violent and blinding.

“What are you going to do?” Yoongi’s fingers stilled on a button at the sound of Jimin so close to him.

“I don’t know—maybe I’ll drop you back off at Sakaar—”

“You can’t do that!”

The assassin whirled on him, eyes narrowed. “And why not? I can’t drag you around—”

“You have to,” Jimin said as firmly as he could manage, puffing out his chest and glaring at Yoongi. The latter scoffed and arched an eyebrow. “You have to. You got me into this mess and now its your responsibility to set this right.”

“ _My_ responsibility?”

“I was doing fine on my own in Sakaar but then you had to kidnap me and deliver me to a lunatic who wanted the Stone. Now, he probably has a bounty on our heads. Whatever life I had before isn’t safe anymore, thanks to you.”

“He wouldn’t put a bounty on our heads—”

His system’s speak crackled to life. _“Search found: two bounties for Yoongi and Park Jimin, five hundred thousand units per head.”_

Yoongi swore, shooting one of his screens a death glare and Jimin gave him a self-satisfied look, leaning his weight onto one leg and folding his arms across his chest. “See?”

The assassin gritted his teeth. “What do you suggest we do then?”

“I know someone who could help?” Jimin gnawed on his bottom lip. “He knows the Infinity Stones better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Oh really?” Yoongi had met many people who knew of Infinity Stones, all obsessed with the power they held and yet not knowing nearly enough about how they worked and how to contain them. His time with Thanos had allowed him to seen hundreds of those fanatics fall and become their own demise in their desperate search for power.

“He was the one that told me about the Stones when I woke up with this in my chest.” Jimin pressed the flat of his palm against his chest, a distracted look crossing his eyes. “Maybe he’ll know how to get it out and get us out of this problem.”

“Why would he help you?” Yoongi doubted, walking past Jimin to check on his ship’s regulator. “How do you know he won’t turn us in the moment he sees us?”

“He won’t turn me in.” Jimin’s tone was confident though his expression spoke of a reluctance that Yoongi didn’t understand. “He won’t turn you in as well, if I ask him not to.”

“What do you have on the guy? Does he owe you something?”

 

“No, but—I know he’ll help us.”

Yoongi sighed and sat himself in his chair, hand hovering over his control screen to key in the coordinates. “Where is he?”

“Nowhere.”

Yoongi snapped his head sideways to look at Jimin, jaw dropping. “Nowhere? That’s so far away—”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

Yoongi shut his mouth and sighed. “Fine.” He keyed in their next destination, only to be interrupted by a horrid grating sound that seemed to tear through the entire ship. Jimin screamed, falling backwards when the vessel gave a violent shudder. The assassin shot to his feet, peering out his side window and swearing loudly at the sight of his ship leaking fluid.

“We’re going to have to land somewhere to repair that first.” Yoongi muttered and set his coordinates to the nearest planet, breathing a sigh of relief to find that it was an isolated one, barely inhabited by anyone.

He managed to land the ship before it could crash, his engine beginning to make horrible whining sounds as he approached the ground. His brain rattled against his skull as the rocky ground was less than kind to his ship, eyes squeezing shut at the harsh impact.

Sighing, Yoongi glanced back to check on Jimin and found the Terran on the seats, clinging to the metal bar above his head tightly. His white rimmed pupils were blown wide, knuckles wide from where they gripped the bar tightly.

“We’re on the ground,” Yoongi mused and got up from his seat, walking past the other and stepping out of his ship. He assessed the rocky terrain they had landed in, a large rock a few feet away throwing a shadow over his ship. He moved to assess the damage his ship had taken, breath held as he prepared himself for what he might see.

There was a sizable hole in his wing where fluid was leaking from and in the side of the ship’s body were slight scorch marks and missing shards of metal, indicating damage by a small explosive. He sighed, guessing it had been left there by one of the ships chasing him and swiped one finger across the side of his ship to collect the dripping blue liquid that fell from the hole.

“Is it really bad?” Jimin asked, coming up from behind him to look at the damage.

“No, but it’ll take me a while to patch. I guess we’re stuck here for a few hours.” he sighed, turning on his heel to get the supplies he needed.

Yoongi rummaged through his storage for parts and tools, setting aside the things that he needed. When he walked out, carrying a box full of parts and tools in his arms, he found Jimin eyeing the symbol carved into the side of his ship, fingers delicately tracing over it in the air, not quite touching.

"Try not to touch anything," Yoongi remarked gruffly, setting the box on the ground and shrugging off his jacket. He threw it over a small hook that extended from side of his ship and let it hang there before peering into the hole and tried to rewire the burnt circuits, hissing when the buzz of stray electricity bit at the tips of his fingers.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Unless you’re telling me you know the engineering of an 838M98 circuit board and how reroute the power—” He waited for a second to allow Jimin to interrupt if he did. “—then no, there’s nothing that you can do.”

The Terran looked around at the barren land they were in and wordlessly folded himself onto the ground, propping his head against his hand to watch the assassin fix the damage done. Yoongi managed to work in the silence between them for several minutes before he began to find it discerning. He shrugged the feeling off, refusing to glance at Jimin lest he break his concentration and bent down to retrieve the thinnest pair of pliers he had to twist two wires together.

“You seem to know ships very well,” Jimin murmured after fifteen minutes of wordlessness between them and Yoongi sighed internally, knowing the silence couldn’t have lasted forever.

“Yeah, I love ships. They only fail if you don’t build them strong enough—I like that.” Yoongi wiped away the smears of leaked fluid from his hand on a rag. He glanced at Jimin, watching as he seemed to take in the finer details of his ship. “How did you get the stone in your chest anyways?”

Jimin turned to look at him, expression startled that Yoongi had asked him a question. There was a heavy reluctance in his eyes but he spoke nonetheless, each word pulled from his lips like a fish on a hook. “I don’t really remember how it was put in my chest—only that my life was kinda split in between Before and After. I just remember people snatching me from my home, throwing me into the back of a spaceship and…I think they killed me.”

Yoongi’s fingers stilled on a set of wires he had been twisting together. Jimin had a distant blankness in his eyes, the glow of the white in his eyes almost dulling. “If they had, you wouldn’t be here right now,” the former remarked.

“That should be true—but I remember them driving a dagger into my chest before I passed out. I was swimming in the dark for what felt like years, not really like I was existing but…just _there. S_ uddenly I feel _everything_ and it hurt so much I woke up.” Yoongi felt his heart throb heavily in his chest, an echoing pain that was not his and tightened his grip on the pliers. He kept glancing in between his “I was alone on a spaceship, not the same one I had been taken on. I didn’t wait or think—I just flew off.”

“They just let you go?”

“No one was there to stop me.” Jimin shrugged. “I crash landed on Nowhere when the pain was too much—it’s like I could feel everything everyone else was feeling. I never knew who those people were and I was too afraid to find any answers.”

Yoongi felt the tiniest curl of guilt in his chest and scowled at himself. If he didn’t take Jimin from his peaceful life, neither of them would have been in this situation and the other wouldn’t have to face his demon head on. He scrunched his eyebrows together in frustration and huffed under his breath, fingers idle on the tool in his hand.

“I’m sorry for kidnapping you and getting you into all of this. It wasn’t intentional, you know—purely business,” the assassin muttered without turning to look at Jimin. The apology felt foreign on his tongue, the words like an unknown language he suddenly knew how to speak.

Much to his surprise, Jimin laughed softly, the sound free of any malice. “I’m not the only one knee deep in shit. I guess I’m sorry too.” The corner of Yoongi’s mouth tilted into a small smile as he turned around to wipe away the gunk that had pooled in the hole. “What about you? Were you born with your ability?”

“Yeah, I was,” Yoongi replied curtly. His tongue always grew heavy around the taboo of his powers.

“I’ve never heard of anyone one else who could do that. Can all of your people do as you do?” Despite the bitterness on his tongue, the intrigue and excitement in Jimin’s tone propelled him to answer, hoping he would then drop it.

“Neither have I. Maybe I’d know, if I knew who my people were.” Yoongi thought of the question that had plagued him all his life—the small tug in the corner of his brain that ached to know what to call himself and who had made up his existence in the universe. His first memories had been Thanos and a knife being placed in one hand—that was all he ever knew and felt the inevitable resentment fester within him—towards who and what, he wasn’t too sure.

Yoongi pretended not to see the look of shock and sympathy on the other’s face. “I guess we’re both pretty far from home, huh?”

Clenching his jaw, he shoved away the bubbling sense of longing in his chest. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, one that was almost foreign to him now. There had never been a point to long, in his eyes. As soon as he could comprehend what Thanos had set out to do, what the immortal had decided would be his purpose by his side, he knew there was no point of attaching himself to anything, not even for a fleeting second.

“What about you? How did you end up in space? Not many Terrans leave home.”

A thoughtful look crossed Jimin’s face and he pursed his lips, bending down to pick up a large screw that had fallen from Yoongi’s tool box and rolled it in his hands. “I think I was an orphan back on Earth. I don’t remember having a mother and a father and one day I was plucked off the side of the street by a man. I only ever called him Master but he was kind to me. I was born blind and he gave me new eyes, fed me, clothed me, taught me things from the millions of books he had and kept me safe. He was always a bit cold but I think I was like a son to him—or maybe a pet, I’m not sure.” Jimin recalled the words like they were fond memories though his eyes were dark clouds brewing in a distance. “He was killed when I was taken.”

Jimin said the words flippantly but his eyes had dulled even more, barely glowing with the normal light in the white circles. Yoongi wanted to sag against the side of his ship from the amount of sadness he could feel ebbing from the other and clutched onto the wing tightly to ground himself.

“Jimin,” the assassin said quietly, barely managing to speak over the thickness that had formed in the back of his throat. “I can feel your sadness.”

The other seemed to snap out of it, straightening his back as a shocked look crossed his features. He leapt to his feet, dropping the screw onto the ground and backed away, suddenly looking panicked. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi—I didn’t mean to—”

The sadness dissipitated and the assassin took a breath. “It’s fine, I’m sorry I asked.”

Jimin looked at his feet as he toed at a pebble. He stretched his arms over his head and feigned an overexaggerated yawn. “I’m actually very tired—do you mind if I go to sleep? I’ll stay if you need help with something—”

“No, no,” Yoongi muttered, waving him away. Perhaps with Jimin asleep, he’d finally be able to focus on fixing this damned ship so they could get off this rock. “I’ll be fine. You go and rest and I’ll, uh, wake you up if I need anything.”

“Right, I’ll just—go.” Jimin gave him a smile before darting back into the ship. Yoongi took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, shaking his head at his lack of control around the other and spent the next few hours trying to block out his emotions and the presence of the Terran sleeping several feet away from him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had been a little too long and Yoongi was beginning to grow antsy.

Jimin had set off an hour ago, claiming that he wanted to explore the land and the assassin had waved him off with barely a glance as he tried to install a new capacitor into the ship. He had long since finished the job and Jimin still hadn’t made a reappearance. Yoongi’s feet tapped insistently against the ground and set off to look for the Terran, eyebrows furrowed as he wandered around the vicinity and called the other’s name. He frowned when he didn’t get a response.

How far had he gone?

A small tendril of concern wriggled back into his mind, one that made his search the slightest bit frantic. He was presented with the worry that perhaps someone had snatched up Jimin and quickly squashed it under his boot—he would have heard something like that and he was sure the Terran wouldn’t have been so stupid as to do that.

He glanced around each rock, expecting the other to be crouched behind it. He came to a large hole, roughly the size of his arm in diameter and peered into it, seeing nothing but an endless black tunnel and hoped that Jimin hadn’t fallen in.

“Jimin!” he called once more, the name echoing across the terrain.

“Stop screaming, jeez.” Yoongi whirled around to see the aforementioned boy stood several feet away, a furry creature cradled in his arms. It gave a hideous whine that made the former pull a face, one eyebrow arching questioningly.

“What the hell is that?” His eyes narrowed at the…animal in his arms, never having seen something like that before. It was a soft pink in colour, its large triangular ears flopping over the sides of its head and hairy snout drooping, twitching occasionally against Jimin’s arm. Yoongi couldn’t decide if it was cute or extremely ugly.

“I’m not sure, but it’s cute and I found it just running around.” Jimin cooed at it and ran one gentle finger down the length of its nose. Yoongi watched him tickle the animal as it tried to bite his finger in retaliation and exhaled loudly, realising that he had been worried for no reason at all.

“Where were you?” Yoongi began walking back to the ship, keeping Jimin in his peripheral.

“I was just exploring, like I said, and found a cave. I found a ton of these babies in there and they were all so tame—”

“They could have eaten you.”

“But they didn’t,” Jimin shot back. “This one was lazy—it just crawled into my arms and it hasn’t moved much, really.”

“What if you got hurt?”

“Why are—were you worried about me?” Yoongi stopped to look at Jimin, only to find the other grinning at him, eyes dancing with mirth.

“N-no—I was just—”

The latter laughed, startling the pink creature. “You’re not as much as a heartless assassin as you project yourself to be.”

Yoongi snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever.”

His mouth clamped shut when he spotted three figures that had not been there before, lingering around his spaceship and armed heavily with guns. As quickly as he could, he grabbed Jimin’s arm and pulled him behind a rock, clamping a hand over his mouth so he would keep quiet.

“There are several people by the ship. Bounty hunters.” Yoongi murmured, removing his hand and glancing around the rock. The hunters didn’t seem to be doing anything, probably waiting for them to appear.

Gesturing for Jimin to be quiet and follow him, he snuck around until he was close enough to hear them.

“We’ll split the bounty okay?” one of the men suggested, planting himself on a rock.

“No way. Whoever gets them, gets them.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Amateurs.

His footsteps were soundless as he crept up on them, keeping his eyes on all three as he unsheathed his dagger and targeted the first hunter. One of the other two spotted Yoongi over his shoulder, eyes widening in alarm.

The assassin grinned before stabbing his target in the shoulder as another hunter pulled a stun gun on him. Like it was second nature, Yoongi threw the incapacitated man at the other hunters so he absorbed most of the impact and was blown back several feet despite the flesh cushion he had used. He felt his lungs constrict in his chest, the air around him thin. All three hunters had collapsed to the ground from the recoil, groaning as they tried to get to their feet.

Each kick and shot fired missed Yoongi as he effectively dodged every attempt, knocking out two with blows to their heads. The last hunter was harder to take down, managing to land a punch to Yoongi’s gut.

He grabbed him by the back of the shirt, sending him sailing through the air and slamming against the rock Jimin was hiding behind. Yoongi groaned at the throb in his shoulder and waved away Jimin’s voice of concern. He staggered to his feet and swung his fist, grinning at the sound of bone hitting bone.

The man crumpled to the ground, struggling as Yoongi crouched behind him and had him in a chokehold, arms straining in effort. He exhaled in relief when the man went limp.

With a lack of immediate danger, the first thing he noticed was the high-pitched whining in the air—so distressed it almost sounded like keening. He hurried over to where Jimin was hidden and found him staring at who had to be a fourth hunter, curled on his side and shaking violently.

The pink haired creature was the source of the awful noises, backing away from Jimin as it trembled.

“Jimin?” Yoongi called softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he was assaulted by the heart wrenching taste of distress and fought the urge to recoil. Jimin’s expression was a mix between horror and fear.

“I—I didn’t mean it.” His voice cracked and Yoongi had to take a deep breath to clear his mind of the darkness seeping in.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay—c’mon,” Yoongi murmured, slipping his arm around Jimin and taking another deep breath to ground himself. He forced his jaw to relax, not wanting to sound like he was speaking through clenched teeth. “Let’s go back to the ship and get out of here, okay?” He beyond relieved he had fixed the ship well enough that it was ready to fly again.

Wordlessly, the Terran nodded and let Yoongi guide him back to the ship. They were in the air in the next minute.

Cautiously, Yoongi took a seat beside the other and wracked his brain for the next proper course of action, not sure if he was welcome to speak or comfort the other—not sure if he even knew how to do so.

Jimin made it easy for him and spoke first, the words a whisper on his lips. “Do you ever find it hard to control?”

Yoongi didn’t need him to say it to know what he was talking about. “I used to. There was a reason I shut myself away.”

“It’s so scary.” Yoongi couldn’t help but agree. “Sometimes it feels like I’m in charge and sometimes I feel like I’m just a way for the Stone to do things.”

Jimin looked at him, face a little pale as Yoongi shook his head. “You are always in control. The only way for you to have full control is to believe that.”

“I wish I could believe it—once, I drove a man insane because of this.” Jimin tapped the centre of his chest, eyes a little glassy as he got lost in a memory. “He tried to snatch me up and I was so overwhelmed I just…lost control.”

Yoongi had lost control over his powers before, of course, but he had been the only victim of it: his mind feeling like it was burning as he was assaulted by an onslaught of emotions. It had been a long time since he had finally learnt how to control himself but the memory of it lingered like a wound that refused to heal.

“You were trying to protect yourself, Jimin,” he finally sighed. He had a hard time looking the other in the eye, especially when he could see the glassiness in them.

The other said nothing for a moment before he gave a wet laugh, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

“Have a breakdown?” Yoongi gave him a small smile, leaning forwards and bracing his elbows against his knees. He noticed that Jimin’s hands were trembling, his fingers picking at one another as he fidgeted. “It’s okay. There are some things you can’t control.”

There were other things he wanted to say—things he didn’t believe were his place to and so they sat in silence for a long while, the both of them pretending like they didn’t see the glances they snuck at one another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“How well does being an assassin pay?”

Yoongi looked up to see Jimin looking at him, head cocked as he took a bite of the sandwich he had made with whatever pitiful ingredients that had been in the former’s refrigerator. He had set his ship on autopilot towards Nowhere before focusing on the task of feeding Jimin.

He had pulled together a mediocre meal once he realised that: 1) Jimin needed to eat far more frequently than he did, 2) It had probably been a while since his last meal and 3) the other was too damned polite to ask to be given sustenance in order to stay alive.

(“Seriously, Yoongi, its fine—I’m not even that hungry—”

Yoongi snorted as he stuck some meat into the microwave to warm it up. “What are you gonna tell me next—that you don’t need an atmosphere to breathe?”)

Gauging the intrigued look on the other’s face, Yoongi decided to humour him. He leant back in his seat and twirled his dagger in his hand, noting how Jimin’s eyes followed the movement attentively. “Well, it depends on the target our client gives us. The harder they are to kill—or the more important they are—means that my price goes up.”

“How much did you charge to hunt me?” Jimin had a teasing look on his face now, the corner of his mouth smeared with ketchup. Yoongi tried not to laugh.

“Five million units—”

Jimin made a disgruntled sound as an offended look crossed his features. “That’s so little—I’m worth at _least_ ten million units—I have an Infinity Stone in my chest for crying out loud—”

“Technically, only a piece of it,” Yoongi mused. “Besides, if I had known you had an Infinity Stone in you, I would have asked Torgu to fuck off and flown away as far away from you as I could.”

Jimin pressed his lips into a tight line before taking another bite of his sandwich. “You’re pretty scared of them, huh?”

“Wouldn’t you be afraid of all-powerful Stones that had the ability to level galaxies if used by the wrong person?”

“I guess I see your point...how did you become an assassin in the first place? Is there some sort of school or did you just wake up one morning and decide that school wasn’t gonna work?”

Yoongi smiled ruefully. Jimin wasn’t too far off from his speculation about a school. Growing up, Yoongi had trained alongside other children, all taken from their home planets by Thanos and trained to become the killing machines that the immortal had decided them to be. It had been a ruthless childhood, days filled with worrying and fear of not being alive to see the next day and the strength to fight and hurt—even kill others—fuelled by the determination to stay alive.

“Something like that,” he said, tone indicating he would say no more on the matter. Jimin understood and seemed to drop the topic, only to perk back up a moment later.

“Do you have a favourite weapon you like to use?”

“I can use any weapon and guns are great for getting a kill without having to get anywhere near a target but there’s something intimate about using a blade and it’s a nice skill to hone. A blade means I’d have to get close to my target but the kill is precise and swift, exactly where I want to be, how I want it.” Yoongi expected Jimin to be disgusted or afraid of his words but the latter only seemed impressed.

“That’s so cool—you could teach me how to wield a knife!” It baffled Yoongi how Jimin refused to ask for food—something he needed to stay _alive_ —but had no qualms against asking him questions about his life or suggesting things such as this.

“I don’t think so—”

“Why not?” Jimin seemed to take it as a challenge and Yoongi groaned internally. “If you would teach me, I’m sure I’d be good in no time.”

“Why would you even want to learn how to knife fight, anyways?”

 

“Well, I have a bounty on my head and god knows how many assholes on my tail because of it. I’d like to be able to protect myself.”

Determination gleamed in Jimin’s eyes and it was a look that Yoongi quickly realised he should fear. If there was one thing he had discovered, it was that Jimin could be persistent when he wanted be.

The assassin rose to his feet and slotted the dagger back into the sheath strapped to his thigh, “I’d love to right now but I should clean up after myself. This ship is practically my home and I can’t have it disgusting and dirty.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes and bit into his sandwich with a bit more aggression than necessary as Yoongi hurried past him to clean up the tiny crumbs he had left on the counter.

The latter ended up cleaning his entire ship to avoid Jimin’s request, the components far cleaner than they had ever been before. Jimin had watched him like a hawk for a while before eventually retreating to the seats against the wall to take a nap.

Yoongi found himself glancing over his shoulder at the other several times, watching the way his eyelids moved as he dreamt. When Jimin slept, Yoongi realised that he couldn’t feel the former, the air dead silent and without the gentle thrum of emotions the other always emitted. He hadn’t realised how accustomed he had gotten to his presence over the span of the last few days and while a part of him was relieved that he could finally be without emotions, another part shifted uncomfortably by how still everything was.

He let Jimin sleep until Nowhere loomed ahead of them, the decapitated head of the ancient celestial intimidating to gaze upon.

He could feel waves of nervousness ebb from Jimin as he padded up beside him to take a closer look at their destination. Yoongi glanced at him and found the other gnawing at his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah!” Jimin said a little too quickly, jumping back a little to put more space in between them. “I hope he’ll see us,” he continued under his breath.

“You mean there’s a chance he won’t?” Yoongi said incredulously, eyes boring into Jimin’s with a fire that told the other that he better had not just flown across the galaxy for a guy who wouldn’t help them or there would be hell to pay.

“Well—he’s temperamental.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw. “Well, so am I. Emphasise on the temper part. If he won’t see us, I’ll make him see us.”

Jimin chuckled despite his nerves and directed him on where to land. He led the way to the man who could help them, head always just the slightest bit ducked as it always was when in public. Yoongi sighed softly and moved to walk beside him, their shoulders brushing as he pressed one hand to the small of Jimin’s back.

“Don’t hunch and act like you’re a wanted person. You’re just drawing attention to yourself if you do. Stand straight, look ahead and no one will give you a second glance.” Jimin looked at him, expression more surprised than anything else and despite the unsure look he shot the assassin, followed his advice anyways. His eyes darted around and Jimin seemed to lose some of the tension of his shoulder when he realised Yoongi was right. “And if they do give you a second glance, it’s definitely not because you have a bounty on your head.”

Yoongi grinned at the stunned look Jimin gave him and sidestepped to put some space in between them, gesturing for him to continue leading the way.

They came to a bar that bustled with patrons of all species, the light above pulsing red and yellow. Yoongi followed him from behind, keeping a watchful eye on anyone who seemed out of pace or whose eyes lingered for a moment too long. Jimin glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the assassin was still there before stepping up to the bar, leaning over the countertop to whisper in the bartender’s ear.

The four-armed man leaned back to look at Jimin, eyes scanning him before they drifted to look at Yoongi. He wrinkled his nose and nodded before he slinked away from the bar and disappeared into the crowd.

“He’s gone to tell his boss I’m here to see him.” Jimin leant back against the counter, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. Yoongi’s skin felt like it had begun to crawl as well, prickles covering his nape as the bodies around him crowded together. The air was thick with the scent of flesh and sweat and Yoongi reached out to touch Jimin’s elbow, inclining his head to what appeared to be an empty outdoor area on the other side of the room.

“Do you want to wait there instead?” Jimin nodded with relief written all over his face and followed Yoongi, expression twisting into discomfort once again when drunken bodies kept bumping into them. The Terran squeaked softly when he was shoved forward and found himself with his front pressed against Yoongi’s back, breath hot against the latter’s nape. He stopped breathing for a moment before he looked over his shoulder at Jimin, eyebrow arched. “You okay?”

“Fine—I’m sorry,” Jimin managed and Yoongi merely tugged him forward so he was stood in front of him. He kept his hand hovering an inch from Jimin’s back, exhaling loudly once they had cleared the crowd of people and could take a whiff of fresh air. “God, it was like I was suffocating in there.”

“It was sweaty and disgusting—”

“Not only that. I could feel all their emotions—all screaming at me and there was so much pain back there. So many people weren’t happy and they’ve come to the corner of the galaxy to forget.” Jimin shuddered and turned away from the throng of people.

Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. Even when he had used his powers, Yoongi had had the ability to feel what others did only when he wanted to and even then, it had been a highly invasive and draining thing to him, having to mentally withstand his own emotion and that of others. He couldn’t imagine not having an off switch for that aspect of his capabilities and being forced to endure what others felt. “Do you feel emotions all the time?”

“I’m getting better at controlling it? Something like…moderating how intense I feel them. For some it’s ueasier, others not so much—but no, I don’t have an off switch.” Jimin gave him a teasing look but Yoongi could barely humour him as he tried to wrap his head around the concept of feeling all the time. “It’s nice—and unnerving, in a way—being around you. Nice that I don’t feel what you feel unless I try—not that I do.”

“Funny, its terrible being around you,” Yoongi jabbed drily, grinning when Jimin scowled petulantly. “I feel emotions thanks to that stupid stone in your chest and I wish I didn’t.”

“So, you don’t mind me—it’s just my powers?” Jimin asked slyly.

“I’m still deciding,” Yoongi murmured and pretended not to see the bright smile that stretched across the other’s face.

“By the way,” Jimin started slowly, clasping his hand behind his back and taking a step closer. “Since we’re waiting and there’s obviously nothing for you to do around here, why don’t you teach me how to fight with a knife?”

Yoongi sighed, looking at the other through his peripheral and seeing as he couldn’t begin scrubbing the floor beneath him, decided to resign himself to teaching one lesson. “Fine. Come here.”

Jimin stepped forward enthusiastically and when Yoongi deemed him close enough, darted his hand out and spun him around so the former’s back was pressed against his front, one arm tight around his chest while the other hand held a knife to Jimin’s carotid artery, the cool metal hovering with the tiniest sliver of space from skin.

He kept his back to the bar so no one could see what he was doing and heard the other’s quiet gasp as he grew motionless in his arms, chest barely rising and falling. “Lesson one: don’t just step towards an enemy without a plan.”

“This is very intense,” Jimin whispered, heart undoubtedly fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest.

“Of course, it is, Jimin. One flick of my wrist, I’ll split your carotid artery open and you’ll be dead in seconds.”

“That sounds bad,”

Yoongi nodded. “Now, you’re gonna want to roll your head and body back—hard as you can ‘cos that’ll stun your attacker.” Jimin obliged, following his instructions slowly, just to get a feel of what he was actually supposed to do. Yoongi hummed in approval, wrinkling his nose when tufts of Jimin’s hair tickled his nose. “With one hand, reach in between my arm and your chest, and grab the inside of my wrist and the outside with your other hand.”

“Like this?” Jimin’s grip on his wrist was not one he had expected: it was tight enough that it stung and Yoongi was sure it would take him some actual effort to break his hold.

“That’s great, actually. Now, push your hips into mine.” Yoongi felt Jimin go very still in his arms and the assassin swore he could feel the flutter of his pulse on the side of his neck. “Jimin?”

Jimin craned his neck around so he could look at him, eyes a little wide and alert. “I’m sorry, you want me to do _what_?”

It dawned on Yoongi how compromising their positions would’ve been and forced the image out of his mind, willing him not to linger on it. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a tight line. He hadn’t really factored in being so close to Jimin and he could feel the latter’s nerves ricocheting off the inside of his head like a wild firework. “Yeah—”

A knocking sound drew their attention away from each other and Yoongi let go of Jimin like he was made of fire, their gaze broken like ice cracking. He took a step back for good measure and looked up to address whoever that had interrupted them.

The bartender from before stood in the doorway of the bar, one eyebrow arched at their previous position before sliding his gaze over to Jimin, face reverting to its original blank slate.

“My Master will see you now,” he deadpanned and turned around before beginning to walk, not glancing back to make sure that the both of them were following him. Yoongi moved first, footsteps a little robotic as he followed the bartender. Seconds later, he felt Jimin’s hand curl into the hem his sleeve, his anxiety skyrocketing as he stayed close to Yoongi. His suspicion and doubt towards the person they were about to meet increased tenfold and he wondered who were they really to have Jimin on so much edge.

They were led up several flight of stairs and into a large room filled with glass cases, all of which containing live creatures or unmoving oddities. They were sights unfamiliar to Yoongi and he wondered where had they come from, the layout of the entire room reminding him of both an exhibition hall and a hoarder’s nest.

“My Grace,” The bartender turned to them and bowed, looking only at Jimin. “I will leave you now. My Master will be with you shortly.”

They were left in the centre of the room, the creatures around them making timid sounds as they stared. Jimin kept his head bowed by his side and before Yoongi could ask him what was the matter, he felt exactly what he wanted to know when the former brushed the back of his hand to his.

The air was thick with misery, crawling like a million insects all around them. Yoongi imagined he could see the cloud of black that settled in the room, hanging overhead like a suffocating blanket.

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispered and glanced around again, this time pinpointing the anguish to all the creatures staring at them from behind thick layers of glass, eyes devoid of life. His stomach rolled at the feeling and felt shards of ice forming beneath his skin.

Beside him, Jimin took a shaky breath and glanced up at him through glassy eyes, clear screams shining through. Yoongi did the first thing he could think of and slipped his hand into Jimin’s, the shock on the other’s face quickly turning to relief when the assassin’s powers reached out like a calming mist to settle over him.

 _Be calm,_ he thought and watched as the rigid tension in Jimin’s shoulders thaw and he could lift his head again. Something in Yoongi’s chest warmed and ached at the same time: his powers never failed him when he did that.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed, taking a deep breath and squeezing his hand appreciatively. They looked up at the sound of footsteps and despite the calm that Yoongi sent his way, Jimin still tensed when the first person stepped into view.

The assassin’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the vaguely familiar white-haired man, his eyes rimmed with the thickest of eyeliner and lips a bright purple with a black line running across the centre. The thick fur coat he wore was dyed a bright turquoise—or perhaps it was the natural colour of some poor animal that had found itself on the man’s back—and his pants were lined with stripes made of bright red sequins.

Two more people filed into the room, their movements fluid and mirroring the other to perfection. Jimin’s hand tightened on his with a strength that should have been painful, if only Yoongi wasn’t too stunned to feel it.

Twin Jimins stared back at them as they moved to stand on either side of the man, their hands clasped over their stomachs and posture rigid. The androids didn’t look like the Jimin that stood by his side, but rather, younger versions of him with fat filled cheeks and eyes filled with an artificial purity. He remembered seeing this trio in his search for Jimin and wondered who the hell had he been brought to.

“Jimin, my beautiful creature!” the man greeted loudly, throwing his arms out in an eagle spread manner. “How delightful it is to see you! I hope you don’t mind my androids—I got a bit lonely after you left and decided to do something about it.” Both Jimins remained unblinking as they stared forward.

“Tivan,” Jimin said with amazing composure from his borrowed calm and stepped forward, a trembling smile on his lips. He didn’t let go of Yoongi’s hand and Tivan’s eyes narrowed on the contact for a brief moment before a slow smile curled onto his brightly coloured lips, eyes shifting to land on Yoongi now.

“I see you’ve brought a friend with you! Welcome, I am The One and Only Collector, Taneleer Tivan, and I would grace you with the grand honour of a place amongst my collections after death but—” he stopped to drag his eyes up and down Yoongi’s body in a way that made the assassin reach for the dagger by his side. Jimin shot him a warning look and the other reluctantly obliged, lowering his hand and clenching his jaw tightly. “—I’m afraid you aren’t _unique_ enough.”

Yoongi scoffed, giving Jimin a look that said _is this guy for real?_

The latter winced. “Tivan, I’ve come here because I need your help.”

“Of course, you did,” the elder man sighed. “Here I thought it was a friendly visit! Tell me darling, what do you need from me?”

“We’re both in trouble because of the Stone and I need to get it out.”

One of Tivan’s eyebrows arched as he levelled Yoongi with an almost amused look. “I’m sure your friend is in trouble for far more than just that.” The gleam in the former’s eyes set of all sorts of red alarms in the assassin, his instincts telling him the other knew far more than he let on and to bolt.

“Well, uh, yes. But he’s with me so I need you to help the both of us—please.”

Tivan was silent for a moment before turning on his heel to stand behind his desk, his android companions detaching from his side in their own separate directions across the room instead of following him. “Remove it, you say?” he hummed and tapped one finger against his lips. “I don’t have the tools nor skills to do so here but I do know a group people who are fully capable of containing the Mind Stone—or in your case, a part of. Come, step closer.”

Yoongi followed Jimin forward and they glanced down at the projection Tivan had pulled up before him. It showed a group of people dressed in all white, their pale skin tones bleached even further by the white garments that hung from their bodies. It was hard to discern the men from the women—if this race even clung to such a thing as gender—as they all had cropped white hair that barely touched their ears. Tivan waved one hand over the image—as though he were _caressing_ them—and sighed softly, the sound full of want.

“They call themselves _Craistale_ and are very odd—but marvellous—creatures in my opinion.” Tivan sighed again, eyes drooping. “What I wouldn’t do to have one in my collection.” Yoongi swallowed the disgust he felt towards the other, figuring the quicker he finished talking, the quicker they could leave. “They have one of the most brilliant technological advances I’ve seen and live longer than those Asgardian gods but they pride themselves on one thing only: their candour.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think it means they’re the bluntest bastards in the galaxy.” Yoongi murmured.

Tivan seemed to think about it for a moment before agreeing with hum. “If there is anyone who can help you, darling, it will be them. They’re located in the Vilamov region.”

“That’s literally in the farthest corner of the galaxy—"

Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s hand to silence him and nodded. “Thank you, Tivan, I really appreciate it. We’ll be going now—”

“You are, my darling. He’s not.”

Yoongi and Jimin found themselves being yanked apart by Tivan’s androids, the two of them having made a sudden reappearance from behind them. The assassin hadn’t even heard them coming.

Jimin screamed and Yoongi held himself very still at the feeling of a cold blade being pressed against his carotid artery, the android’s arm around him tight and unyielding despite having skin that felt as real as Jimin’s.

“What are you doing?” Jimin yelled, struggling against the hands that held him back, eyes wide. Tivan walked around the desk to stand before Yoongi, effectively blocking his view of Jimin.

“This man is a terrible person, Jimin. I’m surprised he hasn’t put a knife in you yet.” Tivan’s face had twisted into a dark, angry cloud, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a sneer. The misery in the room seemed to spike.

“Because I did what? Held hands with Jimin—”

“Because you killed all that mattered to me!” Tivan snarled and took a step forward, hands balled at his sides. Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He remembered every single kill he had been hired to carry out and he had never taken any jobs that involved families or children, much less anyone who was even affiliated with Tivan.

The elder man stepped up and grabbed his throat as the android removed the knife. “It was a long time ago, Yoongi. And I’m not surprised you don’t recall but perhaps the name Jyjienda would ring a bell?” The assassin went very still at the name and Tivan squeezed his throat, fingers digging into his flesh and making Yoongi gasp. He remembered that planet and more specifically, what he had done to its people while stood beside Thanos the entire time. He remembered the blood and the screams and looked away from Tivan, his heart beating erratically in his chest. “The only person I ever loved and _you_ and your insane father took him away.”

Tivan looked over his shoulder at Jimin before returning his attention to Yoongi, leaning forward until he was almost breathing against the latter. “Did you know that there are rumours of Thanos looking for the missing piece of the Mind Stone?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened and felt a part of his mind snap. The dread and pain in the room rushed against him from all sides and he slammed his head back before rearing his head forward, effectively knocking away the Jimin android and Tivan. He seized his opportunity to wrench the knife away from the android and run it across the elder’s forearm. Blue blood stained the blade.

Tivan released him with a cry of pain and stumbled back, cradling his hand to his chest. Yoongi spun around and with a split second of calculation, managed to slam the knife into the space between the android’s eyes, effectively sending it to the ground as nothing more than a pile of lifeless limbs.

Hyperventilating, Yoongi grabbed Tivan by the collar and shook him harshly. “You’re _lying_.” he croaked, voice wavering—with tears? Anger? Fear? Yoongi didn’t know himself.

“Running from daddy, are we?” Tivan hissed and Yoongi screamed, white hot prickling shooting through his hands as one word rang out loud and clear in his mind: _fear_.

Tivan’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a strangled scream, falling onto his ass when the assassin released him. He scrambled away from Yoongi as the other android quickly advanced on the latter, having left Jimin to protect its master.

Yoongi faltered as he looked the android in the face, unsettled by how similar it looked like Jimin and dispatched it quickly by running his own dagger into the android’s neck. He sliced through the wiring, leaving the head barely attached to its neck and the light dimming in its eyes. He heard Jimin call his name and a hand pressing against his chest to hold him back. The Terran stared at him with wide pleading eyes and a swath of calm and safety flooded through Yoongi’s chest, slowing his heart and sucking away the crave for violence in his fists.

“Yoongi, please—let’s just go. If Thanos is looking for me, we can’t stay in one place for too long.” Jimin slid his palm against Yoongi’s and squeezed, eyes never looking away. The assassin looked at Tivan, his airways feeling like they were closing up before nodding and backed away slowly, allowing Jimin to tug him away from the horrible room.

Yoongi was breathless when they reached the ship, his fingers fumbling as he tried to get them in the air and away from this terrible place. He keyed in their next destination before stepping away from the control panel as the ship rose into the air and accelerated towards space, his hand gripping the back of his chair with so much strength his knuckles screamed.

“Yoongi?” Jimin coaxed softly, coming up from behind him and emitting gentle caresses of calm that slowed his heart but not his mind. He felt like he was fighting against a enclosing walls as he resisted the ease that the other was sending him.

“Stop that—Jimin please,” he pleaded. Jimin obliged, pulling away his power so Yoongi could feel on his own, hands hovering in the air and inches away from touching him. There was so much concern in his face that Yoongi didn’t want to look at him, didn’t think he deserved to see such emotion on the other.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi fought a nervous laugh that bubbled to his lips. “Not really— _fuck_ this is all your fault—” He ran his hands through his hair, nails scraping none too gently against his scalp.

“My fault?” Jimin sounded surprised, not mad.

His hands curled in his hair and he walked away from Jimin, beginning to pace. “If you didn’t have that stupid Stone, I wouldn’t have to deal with you or my _stupid_ emotions—I wouldn’t have to feel and fuck, _fuck_ , FUCK—”

_This was how he lost his mind, wasn’t it?_

“Yoongi—”

He levelled Jimin with a crazed look and felt exhaustion drop onto his shoulders from above like a five-tonne boulder. “I don’t want to feel, Jimin,” he croaked and let the other approach him slowly, eyes watching him closely as his small fingers wrapped around his wrist.

He had been prepared to yank his hand away if Jimin tried to calm him with his powers again but was surprised to find nothing but the comfort of human touch.

In that moment, it felt like the last shiny layer he had protectively wrapped around himself was peeled away, leaving him exposed and open for all who cared to see. It was like emerging from a dark cave after so long and Yoongi didn’t know if he wanted to run back into the darkness or embrace the light.

“You’re exhausted—c’mon, at least sit down.” Jimin pulled him up the few short steps to what he had made into a makeshift bedroom, nothing in the small space but an unmade bed and chest of clothes. Their heads barely skimmed the top of the ship and was less than a cosy fit with two people up here. Jimin didn’t seem to mind and pushed Yoongi onto the bed, only to be tugged onto the space beside him with a soft sound of surprise. “Thank you, for not killing Tivan back there.”

“He’s a fucking creep,” Yoongi muttered, picking at the skin by his nails. “Thank you for stopping me.”

Jimin said nothing in reply, merely looking at him for several silent moments. “What did Tivan mean, that you were running away from Thanos?”

Yoongi’s stomach rolled, hatred and dread curling in his stomach once again. Jimin must have felt it and bristled, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned down he could look him in the eye. Yoongi risked a glance and felt something in Jimin’s gaze hook within him to pull the words from his mouth. “I was a child of Thanos once,” he admitted and waited painfully for the other to leap away and spit at him, or steal his dagger from his belt and hold it to his neck.

Shock painted Jimin’s face but he didn’t do any of the things Yoongi had thought he would, eyes softening instead.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Yoongi agreed.

“Will he kill you if he finds you?”

Yoongi thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t think he would but I’m terrified that he’ll take me back with him. I’d rather die than do that ever again.” He closed his eyes and saw bodies laid at his feet, shudders running through his spine. His next words came out a choked whisper, barely loud enough for himself to hear. “I hated it there.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that ever again, okay?”

“You don’t know Thanos like I do,” Yoongi whimpered, pressing the heel of one palm against his eye to stave off the headache that had begun to settle in. “He’s ruthless at getting what he wants. There’s no sacrifice he wouldn’t make to get what he desires the most and that terrifies me.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find you then,” Jimin said with smile that attempted to be reassuring. “Now, you need to rest. I don’t think I’ve seen you slept once since you hauled my ass off Sakaar.”

“I’ve napped—and you’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” Jimin grinned and gently patted his arm before getting to his feet. “Try and at least sleep, okay?”

Yoongi had intended to say ‘okay’ and obey, exhaustion already tugging on his eyelids as his body seemed to suddenly realise that he had indeed gone without sleep for far too long. Instead, his hand darted out to curl around Jimin’s wrist, the spike of emotions he felt from the other waking him up a bit before his senses dulled again.

Jimin turned around, eyes questioning and the assassin found all words deserting him, chased away by the garish feeling of foolishness.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, not pulling his wrist away.

“Stay?” Yoongi managed, eyes unable to meet the other’s. He felt like there was a big red stamp across his forehead that screamed IDIOT and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You make me calm,” he admitted quietly, an odd sensation creeping onto his cheeks and neck—it felt like someone was hovering a flame over his skin.

Jimin said nothing for long moment and Yoongi chanced a glance at him, barely catching the shocked look on the Terran’s face before his eyes flitted away. He withdrew his hand and mumbled something about how he was being stupid, expecting the other to bolt now that he had been given a chance.

He was surprised to find a hand slip into his again, looking up to see Jimin softly smiling down at him. “Scoot up.”

Yoongi’s cheeks continued to burn lowly as Jimin crawled onto the space beside him, hands still clasped in between them. The ease that soothed his mind and body allowed him to breathe without feeling like there was a weight on his chest, this time discernible as a mix of his and Jimin’s.

“Is this okay?”

Jimin lay on his side like how he normally did when he slept, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the top of Yoongi’s hand. “This is fine, Yoongi.”

As much as he would have liked to dwell on his newfound weightlessness, sleep was heavy and found himself lost in it a moment later.

He faded in and out of dreams, sleep blurring the lines of his consciousness. The world he was in was full of books, shelves towering over him and filled to the brim with leather and velvet covers. Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamt.

_Small ribbons of colours wavered before his eyes, mistakable for phantoms if he didn’t squint. He glanced down at his feet and arched an eyebrow, the ground much closer to him than before._

_“Jimin, have you read your books today?”_

_Jimin? Why was this man calling him Jimin?_

_Yoongi turned around and looked up at the approaching man, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. He towered over him, green skin glowing softly beneath the lights above and expression stern. Shadows fell over his face from his sharpened cheekbones, cheeks hollow and face long.  He was dressed in a fine suit made of satin and jewels, slender fingers clasped together over his stomach._

_There was a faint familiarity that ignited at the sight of the man despite never having seen him before. Yoongi tried to move but his feet stayed firmly planted to the ground._

_“No, I haven’t, Master.” Yoongi’s voice was not his own nor one he recognised—it was high in pitch and gentle, like a single falling star gleaming in the distance of a lonely sky. There was a feeling he couldn’t quite place in his chest, a cross between fear and respect._

_The man’s face distorted in further displeasure, the crease in between his eyebrows deepening. “I do not expect to have to tell you to do your own duties, Jimin.”_

_There the man went again, calling him Jimin._

_Was he Jimin in this dream? If he was, where was he and who was this person before him?_

_Yoongi ducked his head in shame, his actions no longer under his control. Idly, the assassin wondered if he was imagining the events that had happened or he had somehow managed to glimpse into the past._

_“I’m sorry, Master. I got distracted.”_

_There was nothing but the sound of footsteps for a moment before a finger tipped his head back so he was looking the man in the face. He caught his reflection in the man’s large irises and gazed at the sight of who had to be a young Jimin, hair combed neatly on his head and white rimmed eyes wide. Yoongi shifted his gaze so he was now looking at the man._

_Was he the one who had raised Jimin?_

_“What were you so distracted by, my boy?” the man asked, eyebrow arching questioningly. Yoongi stayed quiet, almost afraid to speak. “You can tell me.”_

_Meekly, Yoongi found his arm being raised as he pointed towards something on his right. The man followed the direction his finger and hummed quietly, rising to his feet and taking his small hand in his._

_“Do you like the stars?” The man led them over to a wall of glass Jimin must have been distracted by earlier. Perhaps it was because he was in place of child Jimin’s consciousness and then borrowed some of the wonder he felt as Yoongi had never found the sight before him as beautiful as it was now._

_Millions of stars and planets had been scattered across the black canvas before him, fathomless in its depth. Rivers of colours circled clusters of stars, a rainbow road laid bare for him to gaze upon. In them, silver dust swirled about like phantoms dancing with one another around planets._

_“How would you like seeing this over your bed every night?”_

_Yoongi looked at the man with surprise and felt excitement rush through his chest. He could feel that it meant a lot to Jimin and couldn’t help the wide smile that stretched across his face as he nodded enthusiastically. The man didn’t smile, merely nodding but Yoongi recognized the softness in his eyes as an unspoken adoration—perhaps an emotion gone unnoticed by Jimin as a child but it shone as bright as any of the stars to Yoongi._

_“Very well. I’ll see that it is done. Now go along with your books. I shall fetch you when it is time for dinner.”_

_“Yes, master. T-thank you.”_

Yoongi felt consciousness tickle at the corner of his mind as the image faded away, settling him back into his body. He opened his eyes to his boring grey ceiling, trying to gather his bearings and remember what had happened before he fell asleep.

Despite being a master assassin, it took Yoongi a moment to realise that there was body pressed to his side and slight numbness in his shoulder. He looked down to see Jimin curled against him, head pillowed on the space below his clavicle and eyes shut in sleep. Yoongi’s hand was loosely held in his, rising and falling with the assassin’s chest. The other’s lips were parted as even breathes fell from them, one leg thrown over Yoongi’s.

As alien as the whole situation was to Yoongi, he was surprised to find no discomfort in their positions, not hating it as much as much as his mind told him that he should. There was a serene silence that settled over him, unlike the one that came with the lack of emotions. This peace didn’t leave him feeling incomplete or like he was missing something—it felt like the insides of his chest were expanding and Yoongi swore he had never felt so _whole_. Maybe he was having heart failure.

Jimin made a soft sound and shifted, allowing Yoongi a better look at his face. He had seen the other sleep before but never this close and there was something kept his eyes skimming over every delicate feature, noticing things he never had before.

There was just the lightest dusting of dark gold fleck on the other’s skin—freckles, Yoongi recalled their name—and whereas Jimin had always been ridiculously beautiful in his eyes, he couldn’t remember the other looking this…breath-taking. He hadn’t realised that his free hand had unthinkingly moved to brush the back of it against Jimin’s cheek until the latter leaned into his touch and opened his eyes.

Yoongi froze as Jimin said nothing for a heartbeat, blinking to full consciousness before stiffening against him, finally realising the position they were both in and sending a shock of mortification through the former. His eyes flew up to meet Yoongi’s, horror shining in them but before Jimin could wrench himself away, the assassin had caught him by the waist, holding him there.

“Yoongi—I’m so s—”

“Wait,” Yoongi breathed, heart slamming in his chest. Jimin held his breath, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.

“I—I move a bit when I sleep. I should’ve warned you.”

“Its okay.” They stared at each other, unmoving as Yoongi’s mind screamed at him to do something, _say_ something.

“We should get up,” Jimin finally murmured, averting his gaze. Yoongi felt cracks form in the haze that he had been lost in and nodded dumbly, unable to recall another time in his life when his senses had failed him like this.

He let Jimin get up, his hand slipping from his waist to fall onto the warm, wrinkled sheets and followed his movements, unable to shake the nagging feeling in the back of his head.

“Jimin—"

“I—”

Jimin looked back as Yoongi leaned forward, his hand extending to cup the other’s face. They came together like an explosion of a star from lightyears away, barely noticed by the universe but nonetheless powerful. His mind quietened as his eyes fluttered shut.

Kissing Jimin was something he never thought he would do and yet here he was, the other’s full lips brushing softly against his with an ease that made his mind whirl. Nothing in Yoongi’s life had ever been easy but this— _with_ _Jimin_ , was easy. He could feel everything with a sharpened precision—the soft hitch of the other’s breath against him, the warmth and smoothness of his skin beneath his palm, the emotion that Yoongi had no name for, only knowing it left his bones feeling like mush—and everything felt _just enough_. It was gentle and sweet and left Yoongi craving more as they pulled away to breathe, eyes wide and breathing heavy as though they had run a mile.

Yoongi didn’t know what to expect when he looked Jimin in the eye—but knew he hadn’t expected a dancing joy that reflected in the small smile of his parted lips. His cheeks were rosier than usual, flushed with a pink that took Yoongi’s breath away with a soft ‘oh’.

This time, Jimin was the one that surged forward, hands on the side of his neck and knocking Yoongi onto his back. He kissed him again with most of his body sprawled on top of him, body trembling from how much they were touching. This kiss was heavier than the last but didn’t fail to send thrills down his spine. He could feel Jimin’s happiness crash into his own, their emotions managing to curl around one another and settle in the space where their chests met.

He could feel Jimin’s smile against his lips and felt his own mouth tug at their corners. A breathless giggle fell from the other when Yoongi brushed his hand to the underside of his rib before settling on his waist. His thumb swiped over the bare stripe of flesh that had become exposed when Jimin’s shirt rode up against his, a delicate shudder running through the other.

“You’re insane,” Jimin breathed, looking up at him.

“You’re the one kissing an assassin.” Yoongi couldn’t help but grin.

The Terran’s face twisted in mock offense. “You kissed me first.”

“You kissed me second.”

“I’m kissing you third too.”

Their third kiss was shorter than the first two but was no less a whirlwind, mainly because Yoongi remembered he had a ship to pilot and a purple immortal after them. The thought of it made his stomach plummet and Jimin pulled away, eyebrows furrowed worriedly.

“I need to check where we are,” he said apologetically and softly ran the pad of his thumb over Jimin’s bottom lip, tearing his eyes away from them with much difficulty. They got up, a little more tension in the air now that reality had begun to settle itself once again.

Yoongi was glad to see that they hadn’t been asleep too long and was relieved that nothing had happened in that time. Everything was running as it was and they were closer than expected to Vilamov. Now, they had drifted into a region that was full of stars and rainbow coloured dust swirling around them, reminding him so much of the dream he had had.

Curiously, he glanced over his shoulder where Jimin was sat on the bottom steps to his bedroom, eyes cast towards his feet. “Jimin, look.”

The Terran looked at his questioningly before catching sight of the view behind him, breath hitching and mouth falling open. He shot to his feet and walked towards Yoongi, eyes trained and the scene before him.

He braced himself against the back of the assassin’s chair. “That’s—that’s beautiful. I haven’t seen something like that in…years.”

Yoongi thought of the dream again—something about it had felt more than a figment of his imagination, as though everything in that moment had been real. He let Jimin awe in silence while he did his own musing, his curiosity finally winning over.

“I dreamt of a view like this, just now,” Yoongi began and Jimin looked at him, cocking his head and unsure of where he was going with this. “I also dreamt of a little boy…and a man with green skin.”

The twist of shock that flitted across Jimin’s face told Yoongi that what he had seen in his sleep was far more than just dream. “What about them?” the former asked, almost reluctantly.

“The boy hadn’t read his books because he had been too busy watching the stars.”

Confusion and recognition coloured Jimin’s eyes, the crease between his eyebrows deepening further. Hundreds of unanswered questions appeared in his gaze. “How did you—”

“Was that you? The man called the boy Jimin but I thought it was just a thing my mind made up.”

“That is—was—me. That man was the one who raised me…but how…?” Jimin blinked, the slightest hint of distress souring the air. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he seemed to come to a solution. “Could it be because…I was touching you when we slept and I showed you my memories by accident?”

“Can you do that?”

He opened and closed his mouth, uncertain. “I don’t know…maybe? You’re the only, uh, person I’ve shared a bed with.”

This came as a surprise to the assassin, his eyebrows rising. “You’ve never—?”

The rosy colour was back on Jimin’s cheeks as he averted his eyes and Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “You never know who you can trust, especially when you’re asleep.”

“And yet you trust me?”

Jimin tore his eyes away from the stars to look at him, saying nothing for several seconds. Yoongi felt like he was being picked apart and yet, found that he didn’t mind. “You’ve had every opportunity to ditch me and run. You could have dropped my ass off on some godforsaken planet but you didn’t.” He stared at Jimin, a little speechless. He had no words to justify his actions. “Why did you actually save me? You could have taken your units and walked away.”

The assassin opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words that would explain the questions he was wondering himself. “I could feel how scared you were—and I knew you were innocent. It felt so wrong to just leave you so…I didn’t. I’m glad I didn’t.”

Jimin didn’t say anything for a while. “You know, I thought you were hard to read but I think I was looking for things that aren’t there. You’re just a really good person.”

Yoongi barked a laugh. “I’m an assassin.”

“A good person with a fucked moral compass.” Jimin leaned against the back of his chair and cocked his head to a side. “You’re a good person to me, at least.”

A small voice in Yoongi’s head told him he had never been a better person as he was now, to Jimin. He decided he liked the sound of that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a shift between them after that, a blossoming comfort and fluidity in the way they moved around one another that hadn’t been there before.

He remembered that as a child, he would compare himself to every new race he encountered, wondering if perhaps he would fit in there and quickly learnt not to do so when Thanos struck their population down to a meagre handful, leaving nothing but desolation and sorrow in his wake.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel that way as he stared at Jimin. The Terran was midway through a fit of laughter, having found something the assassin had said as funny—eyes crinkled and head tilted back, delicate fingers balled into fists as he tried to contain the tremors that rocked his small frame.

His heart quickened at the thought of slotting into a life with Jimin, fitting in like a missing piece and completing a puzzle that he hadn’t know was unfinished. Warmth flooded through him at the thoughts of such a beautiful fantasy before his mind hissed that it was just that—a fantasy.

Ice chased away the fire that licked his veins as Yoongi’s eyes lingered over the spot in the other’s chest where a piece of the Mind Stone resided beneath layers of flesh and blood. It reminded him of the danger that Jimin was in and his all too mortal state.

“Is everything all right?”

Yoongi blinked away his thoughts and offered Jimin a smile he knew the other could see through immediately. “Of course.”

“You don’t look okay.”

“Just thinking,” he muttered, glancing out the window. “We’re so close to getting all this over and done with.”

He felt Jimin’s hand rest on his arm and glanced down at it. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know—I hope,” he sighed and looked up Jimin. His eyes tried to commit his face to memory and scolded himself for acting like this—like it was the end. Nothing _good_ had to end after all this, he knew, and yet his mind resented him for even entertaining the possibility. He lifted one hand and cupped Jimin’s face, holding his gaze and lightly tracing one cheekbone with his thumb.

He didn’t want to lose Jimin—would cling onto him like his life depended on it if he had to.

Overhead, his ship’s system crackled to life, a haunting voice seeping along the walls. “Pilot, state your purpose in our space field or face the consequences.”

Yoongi and Jimin shared a wide-eyed look before the former leapt to his feet, hurrying over to his control panel and scanning his monitors, his system unable to locate the source of the voice.

“This is your second and final warning,” the voice came again, monotonous and reminding him of a young child’s. “State your purpose or we shall shoot to kill for trespassing.”

“We are looking for the Craistale!” Jimin exclaimed, eyes darting around the ship before landing on Yoongi. There were no words that ensued and Jimin took it as a silent demand to elaborate. “We were told that they could help us—there’s something dangerous in me that needs to be removed and we don’t know who else to turn to.”

There was another beat of silence before the voice curled around them again, a serpent coiling around their frozen statues. “We appreciate your candour. We have done a full body scan on the both of you and will send you the coordinates to our location.”

Yoongi’s monitor was filled with numbers and he gave them a dubious look. “Were those the Craistale?” Jimin asked, approaching him and peering at his monitor. The former huffed, steering his ship in the direction that he had been given with his muscle jumping in his jaw.

“We’ll just have to find out.”

Where the coordinates led to, there was nothing that appeared when paired with a map. No planet, sun, moon or star—nothing but empty space. He frowned but moved forwards anyways, his heart steadily increasing in pace as they grew closer.

Silently, Jimin slipped his hand into his and immediately, he could feel the calm seep into him from his touch. He glanced over his shoulder and gave the Terran a wry smile.

Several minutes later, they arrived to where the coordinates led them and Yoongi slowed the ship to a stop, a frown tugging on his lips. There was nothing in front of them, only an endless darkness that stretched further than the eye could see.

“What—” Jimin began, only to stop himself when the ship began moving on its own, pulled in a direction by some unseen outer force. Yoongi tried to steer away in opposite direction, only to find that his control over the entire ship had been disabled.

“Fuck, what is this—”

The blank canvas before them parted like a curtain to reveal a world of pale pink skies, silver mountains and a singular white pyramid placed directly before them, very well the size of one of the mountains located behind it. The surface of the pyramid was shiny and reflected the image of Yoongi’s ship as it drew closer. The whole scene looked like a painting, everything so still and surreal.

Their landing was smooth, like they were still flying and Jimin squeezed his hand nervously when the door of his ship opened without him having to do so. Yoongi placed one hand over his gun as they crept towards the entrance, stepping out onto the sandy ground.

The air was pleasantly cool despite a lack of a breeze and Jimin stayed close to him, breathing shallow as though he was afraid to make a sound. Glancing around, they could see that there was no other building in sight, nor any signs of life—nothing but pale sand and a mountain range that stretched beyond the horizon.

“Should we knock?” Yoongi muttered, staring down the monstrous pyramid before them. As though his words had been a secret password, a soft whirring sound filled the air and a small square opened up at the base of the pyramid, brilliant light pouring from it.

Two figures stepped out from the pyramid, echoing the images of the white robed people that Tivan had showed them. Squeezing Jimin’s hand reassuringly, they stepped forward to meet their new company and tried not to let the blank expressions unnerve him. The one walking ahead was significantly shorter than their companion, features soft in a way that told the assassin that they could be a child.

“Yoongi,” the child greeted, nodding at him before turning to Jimin and greeting him by his name as well. Yoongi felt him tense by his side and he gave the two Craistale people a suspicious look.

“How do you know our names?”

The child gave them a stiff smile. “We know all that there is to know about you. Please, come in.”

Without another word, the two Craistale turned around with a gentle sweep of their robes and walked back into the pyramid, the small square opening staying as it is, patiently waiting for them to step through.

“They freak me out,” Jimin muttered and Yoongi couldn’t help but silently agree, managing a humourless laugh before following after the two. The walls around them appeared almost liquid, a chrome colour that shifted and swirled in patterns around one another.

They were into a large circular room where several other Craistale awaited them, their movements unnervingly simultaneous as they turned their heads to look at them.

“Welcome,” they chorused and Yoongi froze, needles dragging across his skin from the sound. He could feel Jimin’s nerves spike through the air, crackling the air around him and ran his thumb over the top of his hand soothingly.

It was almost automatic, the way he reached out with his powers to calm Jimin instead and found that it didn’t churn his stomach like how it would have several days ago. There was something that felt almost redeeming, when he was calming the other down.

“We have done a scan on the both of you as you walked on here.” Yoongi watched the child walk over to the middle of the room, extending his hand to draw a pattern in the air. A heart materialised in the air, alongside a significantly modified brain. He could see that there were alterations—metal fused to the ridges and bumps in places and patches of blue and white veins where brain matter should have been. He frowned, wondering what did that have to do with anything.

The heart, on the other hand, could have been considered normal, if not for the small yellow shard resting in the centre of it. The veins and arteries around it were tainted yellow and appeared almost transparent, allowing to see into the flow of blood within. He could easily guess this as Jimin’s as the latter stepped closer to take a better look, mouth parting in awe.

Jimin turned to the Craistale child, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s my heart—but what about the brain?”

All the eyes of the Craistale shifted to Yoongi and the assassin tensed, eyeing each one of them for any suspicious movement. They merely stared, bodies not moving as they watched him intently—it was like being in a room full of statues.

“It is the assassin’s,” the child said softly and Yoongi’s eyes snapped back to the brain, eyebrows furrowing as he gave it another look. Despite the new information, Yoongi found himself oddly unsurprised by it—he knew very well that his brain was physically fucked up in more ways than he could even begin to describe.

“What—why is it like that?” Jimin’s voice was a little shaky and Yoongi gave him a sharp look before turning to the Craistale, a new-found fear igniting in his chest and the other bristled beside him from the feel of it.

“Is your candour with you, Yoongi?” one of the Craistale stood in the back of her room asked, her voice even. Jimin gave him a confused look, eyebrows pulled together. The calm between them was slowly creeping into  

“What—”

Yoongi swallowed the ball in his throat and searched for the words to speak, feeling like he had one foot hanging over a cavern. “I—when I was with Thanos, he said I needed improvements—so he played with my brain and made it _better_ —” Yoongi spat, venom on his tongue. “—hoping it would amplify my powers.”

“And what did you do with your amplified powers?” the inquisitive Craistale continued, voice as even as though they were discussing the weather.

Yoongi snapped his jaw shut, levelling them with a glare that would have sent anyone sane on the receiving end running. All he got in return were blank gazes unaffected by his attempt at intimidation. “I don’t see why these questions are necessary. We are here to help Jimin—”

“You will only achieve our help through candour. Transparency is our price.”

That got Yoongi to clamp his jaw shut, teeth grinding against one another as he imagined what it would be like to punch every single Craistale in the room. He almost feared looking at Jimin and when he did, Yoongi felt his stomach fall to the soles of his feet and shrivel up.

“Yoongi—tell me,” Jimin breathed, eyes wide and imploring like hooks sinking into him to draw out his words. A part of Yoongi yearned to tell him the truth and withhold nothing but a larger part of him—a louder part—knew that there was no way he could do this and remained unscathed.

Yet, despite the screaming that threatened to win, there was no saving Jimin if he didn’t tell the truth. They were running out of time, as it was, and the Craistale were their final resolve. The words felt like they were tearing Yoongi apart just from having to say it—like he was reliving his worst nightmare all over again, except this time, Jimin was there to watch.

He could see the wariness and questions shine in Jimin’s eye and tried to prepare himself to see it be replaced by fear. It felt like Yoongi was strapped to a table, a large blade swinging overhead and inching closer and closer to him with every swing.

He decided to cut the rope and get it over with.

“I was a part of the Black Order when I was with Thanos and…my role there was to make people comply.” The words were like lead on his tongue and Yoongi took a shaky breath, grip tightening on Jimin’s hand as the fear that the other would walk away became too real. The other had gone stiff at the mention of the Black Order.

“W-what do you mean comply?”

“Thanos was very pleased that I was an empath and saw how he could use me to his advantage.” Yoongi could feel the nausea ring in his ears. “My job was to make sure the people that he chose to sacrifice were calm so they…wouldn’t fear their death or try to run. He saw it as kindness.” Towards the end, his voice was no more than a whisper as Jimin’s expression twisted into one of horror.

“Did you do it willingly?” the child chimed in and Yoongi shuddered as he was thrown back into the past.

“Yes.”

The air around him was foul and he could feel the _fear_ from Jimin, punching him exactly where it left him breathless. He had been surrounded by fear like this before—people being terrified of what he would do to them before he silenced it with his own calm—but it had never felt like it physically pained him like this, when Jimin was the cause of it.

He swallowed a strangled sound when Jimin pulled his hand away and stepped back, face having gone so pale he appeared bloodless. Yoongi took a step forward and felt a knife lodge itself in his chest when Jimin flinched.

“Jimin—”

“You manipulated…all those people?” Jimin’s eyes began to water, bottom lip trembling. Yoongi felt like his chest was tearing itself apart and dug his nails into the palm of his hands to ground himself.

“I thought—”

Jimin shook his head, refusing to listen. “Leave,” he whispered, physically repulsed to be in the same room as Yoongi.

_Oh god, what had he done?_

“Jimin, please, it’s not—”

“You don’t have to stay anymore. You can leave—walk away.” Jimin took another step back and to Yoongi, it felt like a lightyear stretched between them. The latter had never been one to cry, but now he felt a lurch in his chest that burned all to well and knew that he was dangling on the edge of a dark hole. He stood rooted in spot, prickling eyes unable to leave Jimin’s and he felt anger seep into his veins as his expression became harsh, jaw clenching and tears finally spilling over. “ _Leave_ ! I don’t want your help, anymore—just _go_!”

The words echoed in the room like it was a cave, bouncing in Yoongi’s ear like poison and for a moment, there was nothing but the both of them staring at one another, breathing ragged and their hearts tearing themselves apart.

“Thank you for your Candour, Yoongi,” the Craistale child chimed in and Yoongi shot him a sharp glare, fists tightening even further as he converted the cracks in his heart into anger, the taste of it bitter on his tongue.

“Are you satisfied with what you’ve taken from me?” Yoongi spat, taking a step in the direction of the Craistale, hand tensing on the dagger strapped to his thigh.

Suddenly, there were a dozen blasters descending from the ceiling, all aimed at him and ready to fire if he were to take another step.

“ _Yoongi!”_ Jimin cried out and the aforementioned man turned to see him with tear tracks streaked across his cheeks, eyes glassy and wide. “Just _go_ . Don’t—don’t do this _.” Don’t hurt anymore people than you already have._

Yoongi heard the words bright and clear and took a deep, shuddering breath before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

It began in his hands—just a slight tremble that soon spread to his chest, rattling each breath and catching the air in his throat, feeling like it had closed up to restrict his airways. Yoongi heard white noise in his ear and found himself braced against the wall as tears pricked at his eyes.

_What was this? Was he dying?_

The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he forced himself to move, falling on his knees and hands once he was outside. He felt rocks cut into his palm but none of the pain, much too distract by the desperate gasps of air he was trying to force down his throat.

As he lurched to his feet—and fell again—Yoongi realised he had lost control of his limbs, feeling like a marionette whose strings had been tangled. Somehow, he made it back onto his ship and made a horrible noise in the back of his throat as so much pain filled his chest. It felt like dying.

Years of guilt seemed to pile up on top of him, intent on crushing him until there was nothing left behind. He sobbed, digging his nails into his chest, just wanting it to _stop._ He saw Jimin’s eyes flash behind his closed eyelids and Yoongi dug his hands into the flooring of his ship, grappling for something to hold on to and keep him from falling further.

There’s a striking pain in the centre of his chest, a knife being twisted over and over as he remembers how _Jimin_ had looked at him. Sweet, beautiful Jimin who had looked at him like a _monster._

The lack of air gets to Yoongi and with Jimin’s fear branded into his skull, he allows black to swoop over his vision and pull him under like the million hands of the ghosts he kept in his closet.

 

_There were thousands of men, women and children knelt before him, their fears creating a tangible stink in the air and making Yoongi opt to breathe through his mouth. His lips twisted into an unforgiving sneer as he scanned the sight before him, looking for any signs of resistance to act on. The people were only held in place by the guns aimed in their direction, their pitiful begs to have their lives spared falling on deaf ears._

_A large hand slid over his shoulder, squeezing as a silent way of telling him to_ focus. _Yoongi swallowed and craned his head upwards to look at the immortal by his side, eyes widening at the sight of him._

_It felt like he had woken up—a horrible splash of cold water slapping his senses into slicing clarity to realise the weight of the situation he was in._

_Yoongi wanted to wrench himself away from Thanos, physical repulsed by being so close to the immortal but found himself rooted in his place, much like his dream where he had been Jimin as a child._

_Was this it then? A dream._

_Why did it feel so real?_

_“Do it, my child.” Thanos’ voice was all around him, rumbling in his ear and thrumming the ground beneath him like an all encompassing being that governed his every move._

_“Be grateful, for you have been saved by the Great Titan on this day.” The words were like an old wound tearing through him again and shuddered at the sound of his own voice uttering them. “On this day, you have been freed from shackles which weigh you down.”_

Stop it! _Yoongi wanted to scream at himself as every bone and muscle strained against his limbs, desperate to stop what he knew was coming. Helplessly, he watched in horror as he turned back to face the crowd, the fear in the air bubbling at his skin._

_He could feel each individual before him like a lightbulb and like a sea of black, his powers surged outwards to wrap around them and conceal their lights._

_Repulsion churned his stomach as one word kept ringing in his head:_ peace. _The begging began to lapse into silence, each terrified expression melting away into blank, lost gazes and the stink thinning until Yoongi could breathe through his nose again._

_Despite how much he wanted to scream, his lips remained firmly shut._

_With a wave of Thanos’ hand, all the people turned to bodies as they fell and Yoongi could feel each individual light extinguishing until he was left alone in his own darkness. Ice spread through his veins, crystallizing in his blood and turning his insides frigid._

_The immortal hummed in satisfaction and patted his shoulder like a father congratulating their son on an achievement in school. Yoongi’s knees trembled with the effort to remain standing._

_“One more task.” Yoongi looked up at Thanos in confusion until a familiar voice broke through the hush that had fallen over his dream._

“Yoongi?”

_He spun around to see Jimin standing several feet away, eyes glassy and horrified as he stared at him. Yoongi stumbled forwards, hands outstretched towards the other in a moment of control over his actions and Jimin’s name on his lips._

_The same hand curled on his shoulder, keeping him where he was and relinquishing all control once more._

_“Give him his freedom.” The command was swift, nothing Yoongi would have blinked twice at year ago but now, he turned to Thanos in horror, only for the grip on his shoulder to tighten almost unbearably. “Deliver it.”_

“Yoongi?” _Jimin whispered and when the assassin turned to look at him, the Terran had been forced to his knees, hands hanging loosely by his sides. His wide eyes watched him, waiting for judgement._

_No, he didn’t want this!_

But it’s right, Yoongi.

_“Deliver it, my child.”_

_Yoongi glanced down at his hand to see a dagger clasped firmly in it and curled his fingers even tighter. A part of his screamed to obey the command, told him that it was right and there was balance that needed to be kept—_

“Yoongi, please.”

_“Kill him, now.”_

_With a scream that tore itself from his throat, Yoongi swung his dagger at Thanos’ head._

”Yoongi!”

The assassin’s eyes flew open as a sob tore itself from his chest, the sound of desperate gasping filling the air. His skin felt like it was crawling with a million insects as his ears rang with a high-pitched whine that made him clutch at his hair.

Belatedly, he realised that there were soft murmurs by his head and gentle strokes along his arm. He jolted, turning his head to see Jimin beside him and felt tears well in his eyes.

Was he still dreaming?

“It’s okay,” Jimin whispered, voice thick with emotion. He brushed the assassin’s hair back with one hand, his touch soothing the race in Yoongi’s chest.

“You’re not real,” he croaked, shaking his head and closing his eyes, falling tears scalding against his flesh. He had to still be dreaming.

“I’m right here.” The hands on him _felt_ real and his voice sounded as clear as day. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi.” He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid to see that he was in fact, alone. He was not meant to keep the ones he loved—why would the universe give a monster like him such a privilege?

Love. What a cruel thing for him to realise now.

“You wouldn’t want to be near me,” Yoongi sobbed and heard the hitch of a breath by his ear before something wet splattered against his cheek.

“I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have said those things to you—” Jimin sounded like he was crying. “I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi’s heart stuttered when he realised he could _feel_ the other’s regret and sorrow hugging him in the way that he recognised as _Jimin_. He held his breath and opened his eyes, mind blanking when Jimin was still beside him and he could very much feel the hands on him.

“Jimin?” The other nodded through his tears and Yoongi found himself all the more confused. He reached out for Jimin’s face with one hand, hesitating for a heartbeat before the latter pushed his face into his touch anyways, more tears trickling down his cheeks. The assassin brushed them away as though on autopilot, mind still malfunctioning with confusion—for all about five seconds before he broke out into tears. _Jimin was here._

Jimin held him as he cried, the latter twisting so he was curled against him. The Terran hushed him with gentle touches, the gentle press of his lips to the top of his head a remarkable calm to his ragged breathing.

“I t-thought you h-hated me.”

“No! Yoongi, no, no.” Jimin sounded horrified, tilting Yoongi’s head upwards so he was looking him in the eye despite the tears. “I don’t hate you, okay? I’m so sorry.”

The latter’s eyebrows furrowed. “W-what are you apologising for…?”

“I should’ve listened to your explanation—I shouldn’t have said the things I said—”

Without wasting another second, Yoongi pulled Jimin towards him, arms tightening around the latter to reassure himself that _yes, Jimin was here._ He pressed his face into Jimin’s temple, another mangled sob falling from his lips. The weight of his body on his, it was real. The press of skin against skin, that was real too.

“You’re _really_ here.”

He felt Jimin’s body shake with sobs as he curled himself against Yoongi, one arm slipping around his neck to clutch him close. They held each other for a time that seemed to simultaneously stretch beyond infinity and pass in a fleeting blink. He imagined he could feel Jimin’s heart beating in time with his, the press of the other against him so comforting. Yoongi took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, feeling Jimin do the same.

“I was so worried,” Jimin finally whispered, his breath tickling the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi hummed questioningly. “You weren’t waking up and they said you would be fine but I was so worried.” A warmth unfurled in Yoongi’s chest at the sound of Jimin telling him he was _worried_ about _him_.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi wasn’t sure which wrong he was apologising for—maybe all of them.

Jimin shook his head, leaning back to look at him. Yoongi’s chest tightened at the sight of his tears—it felt wrong for someone like Jimin to cry for someone like him. “Don’t apologise—I—”

“Why are you here?” the assassin whispered, trying so hard to understand. He saw the fear and horror that had been in Jimin’s eyes again and tensed, fighting the urge to look away.

“It felt wrong, what you told me—it couldn’t have been just that.” Yoongi said nothing, the guilt creeping back into his chest. Jimin must have felt it as he took a deep, shuddering breath, stroking his cheek. “If that was all to your story, you would still be serving under Thanos. You would not be so kind and save me.”

“I’ve done so much wrong, Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice cracked on the name, turning his head away.

Immediately, the other had cupped his face so he wouldn’t look away. There was a look so earnest and loving on his face that Yoongi was sure he was dreaming once again. “I know—I _know_ . But that isn’t the man you are now. I’m not saying what you did was okay, but I know _you_ would never do those things now. You walked away, turned on the Black Order—you even tried to save so many when you realised how wrong things were. You decided not be a part of all that carnage—”

 

“—and became a freelance assassin,” Yoongi muttered in disgust, sniffling softly.

 

“A freelance assassin who only kills people who’ve done bad things,” Jimin grinned and Yoongi sobered immediately, realising he had never indulged Jimin in any of that information. “Wait, how did you know all that?”

Jimin’s mouth opened wordlessly, a bashful expression crossing his features. “I—uh—I know it’s rude but I _may_ have glanced into your memories while you were unconscious—”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, you can do that?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He stared at the other for a long beat of silence before grinning weakly. “You are amazing.”

“On Earth, looking into people’s memories is generally frowned upon thing.”

“I think it’s frowned upon everywhere.” Jimin managed a laugh and wiped away a stray tear.

“It’s rude to kiss someone without asking too, so—can I kiss you?”

Yoongi had already cupped Jimin’s face and leaned in. “You don’t need to ask to kiss me—I don’t think I could ever get mad at that.”

The kiss was one that quickened his heart and soothed it, leaving him wondering if he would ever get used to having the other like this. He hoped not and didn’t think it would be possible to even if he tried.

He’s sure his lips were chapped but the other showed no signs of stopping, moving his lips with a scarlet fire that electrified his veins. Like this, for the first time in his long, horrific life, Yoongi felt some of the gashes in his soul heal, a slow process that he would endure with Jimin by his side.

He kissed Jimin like he was trying to rewrite all his wrongs, licking into the latter’s mouth in a way that made him whimper. He tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss, head clearing of all other thoughts but _Jimin_.

Forever, Yoongi thought. He wouldn’t mind a forever with Jimin.

When Yoongi pulled away to breath, Jimin trailed soft kisses over his cheeks and jaw, his hand moving to brush away their tears before sneaking down to intertwine with the former’s tightly.

“Jimin.” The aforementioned man looked up, lips a little puffy in a way that made Yoongi want to kiss them even more. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled a little shyly, bringing their hands up to press his lips on the back of the assassin’s. “What for?”

“Everything—saving me, mostly.”

“You saved me.” Despite the words, Yoongi knew the other understood what he meant and felt his heart thump louder than it had ever been before. He lifted his head to kiss Jimin again, rolling over so that he was now lying beneath him, hair fanned out prettily against the pillow.

This kiss tipped a scale that Yoongi had barely eyed but was now all he could think about. There was an itch in their hands to touch—to reassure as they caressed at all the skin they could caress. The cocoon of heat they were trapped in only drove their intensity and want to be close to one another.

The kiss he gave Jimin was long and sweet, bordering on just frantic. It was all Yoongi wanted to tell the other without any words, indulging in the sigh of his name on Jimin’s lips and letting himself fall into it, hand moving to cup the latter’s nape. He hoped he could convey how much he loved the other—

There that word was again. Love, rippling across the surface of his mind and resonating deep in him, opening his chest like a flower blooming in spring—life facing the sun for the first time.

He was sure he had never felt it for himself before—nothing anything this strong in the way he felt for Jimin. He had felt the love of others translating through his powers from others and he had revered Thanos once upon a time, but never had he loved—and who else was he to love if not Jimin?

There was a hitch of breath from beneath him and Yoongi pulled away to see Jimin staring up at him with wide eyes, lips parted and beautifully swollen from their kiss and fingers trembling as they traced the outline of the assassin’s face.

Jimin’s eyes had welled up with tears, the emotion in them reflecting his own and there was a moment when he swore that his heart had stilled in his chest. He could feel Jimin’s emotion as clearly as he felt his own and it was like his heart had double—tripled—in size, threatening to burst out of his chest.

“You,” Jimin trailed off, at a loss for words and took another shaky breath. Yoongi didn’t need words; he felt Jimin’s love, stronger than anything he had ever felt before. It was almost impossible to wrap his mind around it: Jimin loved _him_.

Yoongi touched him like he was diamond—strong and priceless in his arms, a rare gem to marvel and hold dear to his heart. His thumb swiped over one stray tear and lips stretching into a smile.

“You know,” he whispered, like it was a secret he was afraid to let the universe know, afraid it would steal Jimin away from him.

Jimin felt his fear and curled his fingers into the hair by his nape, the scratching action comforting and reassuring in a way that made Yoongi’s heart expand wildly in his chest. Jimin’s eyes were blown wide, the white around his pupil pushed the very edge of his iris and once again, Yoongi found himself marvelling at them again.

“I know.” Jimin leaned up and pressed his lips to Yoongi’s again, the three words going unsaid but heard loud and clear by the flustered beating of their hearts. Feeling Jimin’s love was more real than any words to Yoongi, a physical reassurance that he pulsed like blood in his veins. He could feel Jimin tremble against him, so overwhelmed and absolutely surrounded by so much emotion that he didn’t know what to do.

“Park Jimin.”

Yoongi wrenched away from Jimin and spun around to face the voice, hand reaching out for the first thing he could touch to defend them. His jaw clenched at the sight of the same Craistale child from earlier stood in the doorway of the room they were in—where were they anyways?

He didn’t lower his weapon—which, after a quick glance, he identified as an odd cylindrical stick that worked as a lamp—and clenched his jaw, having half a mind to march over there and beat them to death. The white robed being looked a little smug, if that was even possible for the deadpan look in their eyes.

“What do you want?” Yoongi hissed, getting off the bed and stopping when Jimin curled one hand around his bicep, keeping him from advancing on the Craistale.

“I am here to collect Jimin to remove the Stone. That is why the both of you made the journey, yes?” There was _definitely_ a smug tone in that bastard’s voice—

Yoongi straightened up and turned to look at Jimin, eyes widening as he realised that the Stone was still _very much inside of him._

“He didn’t wish to leave your side until you woke up.” the Craistale explained from behind him and Jimin’s smile was sheepish. Yoongi felt like he was melting all over again. “I shall wait outside.”

“You didn’t have to—” Yoongi started, only for Jimin to silence him with another soft press of their lips, hand slipping into his.

“Just stay with me, okay?”

He could feel the thinly veiled fear running through the other those his face showed none of it. Yoongi squeezed his hand and nodded, allowing the younger to lead him out of the room.

The assassin couldn’t remember a time when he had felt this nervous, when his heart felt like it had lodged in his throat as he watched Jimin lie on the metal table, a small android zooming over his body and scanning it.

With the technology the race of aliens had developed, there wasn’t even a need to make a physical incision anywhere on Jimin’s body, but he still held Yoongi’s hand in a firm grip. It was something akin to teleportation, scaled down to the point where the Craistale could perform the operation from _outside_ the body.

Yoongi watched with a wide eyed awe—the engineer in him was entranced, fascinated by such advanced technology—as a network of a human body—Jimin’s body—was projected over the live version. It looked like an exploded view of the other’s body: projection of skin, muscle, blood vessels, nerves and bone all separated from one another to allow the Craistale to have an interrupted view of whatever they chose.

 

In the centre of Jimin’s chest was a metal ball, pressed against the side of his heart. It became the point of focus for the Craistale who zoomed in on it and began detaching it from whatever part of Jimin that it had latched onto.

 

“It’s cast over a wound in your heart, Jimin. We shall replace it with something organic that your body will accept as its own and you’ll be in better health than you’ve ever been in.” The Craistale looming over Jimin said and offered him what almost seemed to be a smile.

 

Jimin gave Yoongi a wide eyed look, fascination warring with his fear and Yoongi stroked his thumb over the top of his hand as he watched the Craistale begin removing the Stone from his chest. He could taste Jimin’s nerves, sour on his tongue but beneath it all, he could feel the thrum of comfort and trust reaching out for and only him. He sent his own little waves of calm and comfort in reply, more of a reassurance that he wa say his side than an attempt to calm him.

 

It was a quick process after all, the Craistale’s fingers precise and deft to separate the metal casing from the layers of tissue without causing any damage. Jimin tensed when a ball of light encapsulated the metal piece, his fingers tightening around Yoongi’s hand as it gave a bright flash and disappeared from the projection of his body, leaving nothing but a patch of dark pink tissue that was its replacement.

 

“You no longer have the Stone as a burden in you.” The Craistale murmured and opened her palm to show the metal ball nestled in the palm of their hand. They brushed a finger over it and the ball cracked in the middle, allowing bright yellow light to shine through the tiny sliver.

 

Jimin sat up and stared at it, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly in disbelief. “I—that’s the Stone.” He turned to Yoongi, breath hitching a little and fingers curling even tighter around the assassin’s. “I—I can’t feel you. I can’t feel anyone in the room.”

 

Yoongi could feel Jimin’s rising his hysteria, chest rising and falling quickly as he was overwhelmed by the sudden silence in his mind. He swooped forward, joining him on the metal table and wrapping an arm around him, pressing soft kisses to the side of his head.

 

“Hey, hey, Jimin—it’s okay. I’m still here, okay?” Jimin thawed when Yoongi sent him his emotions: a little scared, a little awed and very much in love. “I love you, so much.”

 

Jimin gasped softly at the sound of the words and cupped his neck and kissed him, a solid press of lips that grounded the both of them, told them that it was all over now and they were still by each other’s side.

 

“I love you,” Jimin whispered, eyes a little wet. Yoongi didnt need to hear it to know—he could feel Jimin's love loud and clear but reminded himself to let Jimin know verbally from now on, promised himself he'd never let Jimin doubt.

 

They didnt linger long—not that the Craistale were letting them stay anyways—but just enough for Jimin to gather his scattered thoughts.

 

“We shall keep the Stone here. No one will find us unless we want them to.” the Craistale assured and Yoongi pressed his lips into a straight line and merely nodded despite how little he believed the words (he wouldn't underestimate the power hungry).  

 

Jimin curled up on Yoongi's lap when they were were on their ship, one arm remaining around the former's waist and drawing mindless circles into his side.

 

“You think we'll be okay?” Jimin whispered softly, ear pressed against Yoongi's chest and letting his heartbeat soothe him.

 

“I wont let anything happen to you, you know?”

 

Jimin laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I know.”

 

It wasn't exactly the reassuring answer the both of them wanted, but it was enough. They were enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*********

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gamora tried not to pay too much attention to the lustrous silver blood that stained the walls, only one clear goal in her mind that was much too important to share the forefront off her mind with any other thought. Her own blades were stained with her sins and it was easy to pretend that she couldn’t hear the occasional _drip drop_ of the viscous liquid as they hit the floor.

She could hear the commotion behind her, becoming softer and softer as she walked away. She told herself it was only a few people, that she had seen worse and had barely blinked—almost believed it too, if not for the heavy brush in her chest.

She came to a stop before a spot in the wall and jammed her bloodstained weapon into it, taken aback by how the wall gave way to a hole, like it was made of slime despite how solid it had appeared. A doorway appeared and Gamora stepped into the room, eyes scanning her new surroundings and striding towards the panel of screens on the other side of the room.

Leaning over it, her fingers glided over the screens with a thinly veiled urgency, pulling up any surveillance footage that this facility may have. Gamora had one mission in mind—one she absolutely had no choice but to succeed at and if she didn’t, would never forgive herself for.

It felt like the wind had been punched from her gut as she watched two 3D hooded figures being projected before her eyes. Gamora lifted her finger to them and found that she could rotate and view the projected footage from all angles, as though they were a live, interactive display with a mere brush of her finger.

Her brother was smart but she supposed, even master assassins could do little against the most advanced race in the galaxy and their technology.

The sight of Yoongi was one that lodged her heart in her throat and in that moment, she was hit with a wave of longing so strong and so foreign to her that she lost her train of thought. She was a child of Thanos, there was little room for such careless indulgence of emotions.

Scolding herself, she focused on following their escape through a doorway, Yoongi having his arm looped tightly around the other person beside him—an unknown face that Gamora didn’t recognise nor have the time to do a search on, only hoped that they would care for her brother as he so obviously did for them.

They both kept their heads down as they ducked through the doorways and Gamora hadn’t realised she had held her breath until she watched them board what she assumed to be Yoongi’s ship and become nothing more than a glinting speck in the sky.

Her heart was pounding in her chest when she exhaled in momentary relief before moving quickly—she could already hear the footsteps moving in her direction.

Gamora reached into her pocket and produced a small piece of pyramid shaped tech that she set onto the centre of the screens. She stepped back as it began to vibrate violently, the line running through it’s middle shining white before the device released a strong electrical charge.

Jagged streaks of electricity stabbed into the screens and comprised the system, effectively wiping it out and warping any data stored on it beyond salvation.

She stared at the now-blank screens with a sorrow that echoed in the hollow of her chest. Gamora had always prided herself a realist over an optimist and she knew that there was a chance—as a slim as selecting the right star in a sea of trillions—of ever seeing Yoongi again. Her hand felt a little empty—feeling a little wrong without her brother’s comfort as a deep longing settled in his chest—one that she knew would remain with her until she saw Yoongi again or met her demise.

She allowed herself one moment of sadness and goodbye, a silent whisper across the stars that separated them before she straightened her back and turned around, schooling her expression into one that was impressively blank. Her eyes didn’t waver as the immortal joined her in the room, his eyes scanning the face with a cut-throat precision before finally landing on him.

“Daughter,” Thanos addressed before taking slow strides in her direction.

Gamora managed a small smile and a gentle nod of her head. “I just wiped the system of any proof that we were ever here.” That wasn’t a lie and Thanos seemed to believe it, nodding in approval as he stepped past her to peer at the screens. Relief filled her like a drug. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Thanos turned to face her and held up a metal cube, appearing small in the palm of his hand though it was half the size of Gamora’s face. He gestured for her to touch it and hesitantly, Gamora obeyed, pressing the tip of her forefinger to the top of the box and watching it fold in on itself to reveal a yellow stone nestled in the middle.

Her stomach dropped with dread at the sight of it and a winter seeped into her veins, akin to the death of a sun. It was a reality that was suddenly all too real and her stomach twisted at the thought of being apart of it, of having any hand in the cards dealt to them: the death of the universe.

Thanos pulled the box away, sealing it once again and pocketing it before placing his hand against the side of her head and caressing her hair softly. Gamora swallowed the threat of tears pricking her eyes.

“One down, five to go.”

                                                

                                                                                            

 

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this after months whew :") come yell at me on Twitter: [gildedthoughts](https://twitter.com/gildedthoughts?s=09)
> 
> Please comment and gimme kudoes if u liked this :> GIMME THE VALIDATION AND LOVE I SEEK 
> 
> AND FINALLY, I LOVE YOU HYUNA, MY BESTEST BRO, MY DARLING-EST DARLING


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